#She would have done rounds on Tumblr

[edwardallenpoe]

it's so strange seeing people being secretive and shit about reading fanficrion like it's a taboo that you read in the clandestine meetups at 3am in your bed, because I've been reading fanfiction at the ripe age of Way Too Fucking Young (seriously I think I learned my abc's two months prior) and I'm also the very talkative type of autistic so. It is very safe to say everyone I know KNOWS I read fanfiction. If I'm on my phone for more than ten minutes around any given family member they ask if I'm reading fanfiction. They're wrong sometimes. Bc I also write it.

[treacherousfish]

VBS draws their partner hc!

Akito

he rarely ever drawn human. This is a one time only where he was bored in math class and randomly drew toya like you draw a random eyeball 👁️ and would be caught dead rather than to show this to anyone

his canon handwriting is neat and has a very brushstroke like look? So i took a liberty on making him write on all capslock, but it should be more bolder than what ive done lol

Toya

I feel like his drawing would be influenced by tsukasa, and from the puyo game. He doesnt think it was good because “it doesnt manage to capture akito’s charm”

his handwriting is very very neat and fancy so i feel like his alphabet would have a little cursive flair or something

An

Big shapes!! Cute!! Kohane is cute!! Round!! Love!! She gets excited at the thought of drawing kohane and it shows in her fast strokes of shapes!

messy tumblr pinterest aesthetic writing…but actually real….if u look at her canon handwritimg youll get what i mean..

Kohane

shoujo manga girl kohane stuck in irl shounen….she canonly sees An much cooler in her head but this is her result…. (An laminated this doodle kohane did on a sticky note and puts it on her bedroom wall)

kohanes canon handwriting are so small and cute!! I think her alphabet being like this feels like a given ya know?

[httpsserene]

I LOVED daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x reader!! could you write a part 2?

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞: 𝐊.𝐎. !

summary: Okay, Daniel may have won the first round. He cleared her dry spell with no problem and used Max to do it, too. That’s completely fine, she will never complain about experiencing some of the best orgasms of her life. But, Max (the man unable to not have the last word) coerces her into giving Daniel a taste of his own medicine.  As soon as they can manage to walk on two feet, without a wobble. Mark their fucking words.  pairing: daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x fem!black!reader content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. author recommends reading part one before this. polyamory. threesome. massages. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. safe, sane, and consensual. bondage. safeword mention. unprotected sex. ruined orgasm. handjob. oral sex (male receiving). edging. crying during sex. praise kink. nipple play. dom/sub ig? joking during sex. dom!max verstappen. switch!daniel ricciardo. sub!reader. vaginal sex. anal sex (male). sex toys (butt plug). frottage. don’t like don’t read. no beta we die like men. edited by the author, though. this is a fictional depiction of real-life people, and this is not an accurate representation of them. word count: 4.3k words

author’s notes: to all the lovely readers who begged for a part two of my f1 kinktober special | overstimulation kink w danny & max. these tags may look crazy...okay, they are but the fic is reasonably crazy i would say. this was humbling to write, you have been warned. my 2k followers special comes to its end with this final installment and there will be no part three of this fic < 3. i may repost this on ao3 in a week or so, for ease of reading as i know long fics on tumblr are kind of annoying :)

(i'm going to take a little pause from writing daniel ricciardo fics but those of you that have requested things for him i will get to them in due time xxx)

prev part 1 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents↻

Your body feels like it’s been wrung out: legs wobbly, thighs bruised, hips aching, back broken, and numb with heat between your legs. You refuse to wear pants as the friction is too paralyzing to take more than a few steps. Loose dresses are your best friend–for the first couple of days, you even went commando around the ranch—thank god neither one of your boyfriends clued into that. 

However, it’s not like you disliked the oversensitivity and aching muscles that came after sex. You loved the feeling even more as it was the first time you’d been properly fucked in a few months. Having that unending thirst for Max and Daniel quenched; it’s heightened how you experience life. You swear that your vision feels sharper, your melanated skin softer, anything you eat tastes better than delicious, the homemade lemonade is sweeter, and most importantly, your desperation has calmed. While you love life on the farm, where living has become succulent under your senses—Max’s attitude has done a complete 180°.

His energy is completely subdued. It’s like Daniel drained the cum and brat out of him. Max is all stuttered words when he makes eye contact with either of you, blushing fully at the lightest tease or brush of skin, voice soft when he speaks, usual bluntness replaced with shyness, and he’s even clingier than normal. If he hasn’t glued himself underneath Daniel’s arm, he’ll be plastered against your back.

You wonder if he’s embarrassed that Daniel changed their “plan” on him at the last minute, or if it’s because Daniel used him as a tool to get you off—but, asking Max would only scare him away or cause the brat to resurface…so you don’t verbalize your theories. You find Max in this state more adorable than usual, and you won’t complain if it means a surplus of Max-cuddles.

Yet, the figurative rug is pulled from beneath your feet when the three of you go Christmas shopping. Daniel had separated from the two of you to go pick up a gift for his nephew, leaving you and Max alone to browse through knickknacks that decorate the shelves. Your eyes were caught by cat ornaments that looked exactly like Jimmy and Sassy but before you could reach out to grab, them Max grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to hide in the next aisle over.

“I want to break Daniel with so many orgasms that he won’t be able to speak by the time we’re done with him,” Max states bluntly. The brat is back.

“Regulate your volume,” you whisper-yell at him, hand moving to cover his mouth as you look around to see if anybody heard your Dutch boyfriend, “We are in public and you decided now is the time to bring this up?!”

He pulls your hand off his face, looking at you with wide eyes, “But, liefje–c’mon! Daniel’s been way too smug recently. Whenever I’m around him he doesn’t miss the chance to mention how he made me cry—made you cry, too!”

“Inside voice, Max,” you bite out, continuing to look at the Christmas decorations in this aisle.

“Fine,” Max whispers, rolling his eyes, “Technically, it’s another Christmas present for him if you think about it.”

“I’m trying not to think about it if you haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t you want to even the board? Imagine it: Daniel underneath the two of us, and we’re overwhelming him with pleasure. Doesn’t that sound like a good time?”

You stop walking abruptly and Max runs into your back. You spin around and stare at him with narrowed eyes and a flared nose.

“You seriously thought the best time to discuss this is in the middle of a family-friendly store, where our boyfriend is picking up a gift for his nephew?”

“Yes.”

“If you stop talking about it for the entire time we’re shopping today, I’ll consider it. We can discuss this when the phantom feeling of his cum on my skin goes away.”

That evening, you and the Dutchman watch Daniel fix a motorbike out in the driveway from the garage. He’s shirtless, sweat dripping down his face and back, you can see every muscle engage and relax as he moves. He’s silhouetted by the Australian sunset and you hear Max choke on his breath when Daniel’s loose jeans slip down his hips, exposing the waistband of his briefs—twin sighs of disappointment leave you both when he catches and drags them back up. With shaky hands, you grab the pitcher of lemonade you prepared to pour a glass for each of you. Ignoring how you missed the glass on your first few attempts, you two bring the drinks to your lips and dry the cups embarrassingly quickly to satiate your desperation—the lemonade doesn’t help. 

Daniel finishes with the bike and wipes his hands on a towel he had tucked into his back pocket, looking your guys’ way. He smiles brightly—shamefully, you wave in response and Max tucks a nonexistent strand of hair behind his ear; the two of you are acting like school girls with a crush. 

The Australian stands and in a few relaxed strides, he comes to a stop in front of you two. 

“Can you pour me a glass, sweetheart?” his request rumbles out velvety.

Stuttering, you scramble to do as he asked and find that Max has reached for the pitcher as well when your hands bump into each other. The two of you freeze and stare at each other with wide eyes; Max’s blush blooms red across his face and yours warms the brown skin of your cheeks. Daniel’s chuckle of amusement snaps you out of it; Max pours the drink, and you hand it off to the Australian, avoiding eye contact. He brings the glass to his lips and drains it dry. You and the Dutchman stare with gaped mouths, watching the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, whimpering and pressing your thighs together at his ah in satisfaction when finished. 

He leans down to place the glass back on the tray and smirks at you and Max, “Absolutely delicious. It almost tastes as sweet as either of you is acting right now.”

Both of you stay silent, squirming in your lawn chairs. Daniel takes a second to slowly press both of your mouths closed with a nudge of his fingers before straightening up and clearing his throat.

“Thank you for the drink, sweetheart,” Daniel cocks his head to the side in question, before winking, his smug aura radiating off of him, “Or should I say, ‘sweethearts?’ As both of you seemed so eager to help me quench my thirst.”

Your mouth pops open again and Max audibly whimpers next to you. Daniel laughs and walks to enter the house, “Don’t feel afraid to join me in the shower.”

The plan is set before Daniel’s out of the shower. You’ve changed into a black mini slip dress, curls loosely cascading down your back as you’ve draped yourself on top of the bed sideways, face-down on your tummy, not caring how the back of your dress has ridden up a couple of inches. Max laid himself on his side next to you, dressed in a navy Enchanté shirt and a pair of Daniel’s briefs that hug at his thighs a little too tightly, and plays with the bottom hem of your dress, letting his fingers drift underneath to press at bruises that haven’t healed from that night. 

At the sound of the shower shutting off, the two of you glance at each other; Max checking in with you one last time before you guys follow through with the plan. At your nod, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips and goes back to fiddling with your dress. You rest your head on your folded arms and as your eyes flutter shut, the bathroom door opens.

You hear Daniel humming some country song and he gets about three steps into the room before he stops abruptly.

“Well, if I had known this would be waiting for me out here, I wouldn’t have spent a lifetime in the shower waiting for you guys to take me up on my offer.”

Max makes a noise of confusion, his hand pausing at your hemline, “What are you talking about? We just thought it would be nice to give you a massage—you know, prevent any muscle tightness from when you were hunched over the bike.”

“Is that so, pretty girl?” Daniel questions you, looking past Max. He’s dried off from his shower already, skin gleaming thanks to your cocoa butter lotion he probably stole, hair still damp but not dripping, and a towel wrapped around his waist. You’re sure he’s trying to sniff out any weakness; to see if he can bend you into revealing Max’s agenda for tonight. Little does he know that you’re not an accomplice, you’ve put a good amount of work into this plan too.

In response, you offer a small smile and hold up a bottle of massage oil that was previously tucked into your side. Daniel’s narrowed eyes flit between the two of you, and then he relaxes, shrugging loftily as he motions for the two of you to move so he can lie down. 

“Okay, sure,” Daniel laughs, falling into the bed as soon as the space is available, lying flat on his stomach, face planting into the pillows and his next words are muffled but loud enough to understand, “You don’t have to use ‘giving me a massage’ as an excuse to feel me up, but I’m not going to turn it down if you’re so willing to do so.”

You and Max are kneeling on opposite sides of Daniel’s body on the bed, resting on the heels of your feet, and you muffle a giggle at Max rolling his eyes at your boyfriend’s words. The younger man slaps his hand on Daniel’s back, grinning at the stifled yelp that sounds from near the headboard, and coos sarcastically, “Do you think you can handle that level of pain? Considering this is a deep-tissue massage?”

You drizzle a nice amount of oil on the middle of his back, letting your laughter escape as Daniel pleads, “Woah—hear me out, what about a regular massage? I would like to end this massage without crying from soreness, please.”

Slowly the two of you turn to look at each other, smiles spreading across your lips, and Max murmurs, “Oh. You’ll be crying by the end of this.”

You ignore Daniel begging for mercy underneath you and beginning massaging. For all of the Dutchman’s ribbing, the two of you are gentle. Your hands soothingly rub any tension out of his back; the two of you are only doing this to melt Daniel into the bed. He protests and grumbles through the both of you digging into his shoulders, but quiets as you make your way down his back, practically moaning when you push a knot out from behind his shoulder blade. Max manages to wrangle out a whimper when he presses his thumb into the dimple of his lower back. Neither of you gets close to the towel resting low on his hips; you want to keep him as calm and unaware as possible, but getting close to that towel would do the opposite. When Daniel’s breathing slows and his sounds of relief start to lessen, Max gently coaxes Daniel into rolling on his back with ease.

The brunette’s eyes flutter open, but you tut disapprovingly when his gaze meets yours. With a kiss on his forehead, Daniel closes his eyes at your word, not fighting you for a second. And from that point, you and Max begin conditioning the older man to get used to only having one pair of hands on him at a time. Max massages his chest, you take a break, you massage his chest, Max takes a break; and as Daniel starts to relax at the rhythm, you guys slowly increase the length of your breaks. 

Until the breaks get long enough to slip the ties that you guys fastened to the headboard out.

Daniel was so entranced at the sight of you and Max sprawled on his bed that he forgot to examine his surroundings. They’re silk ties, with pre-made straps for you to tighten as soon as his hands are inside them. The two of you take it to the next step; you each begin to massage his arms (still employing your regular breaks), raising them upwards to “get a better angle.” Daniel doesn’t even shift at the change, he just hums under his breath when either of you soothes across a good spot. And with little effort, you and Max raise both of his arms and smoothly slip his tattooed hands into the ties, tightening the straps in the blink of an eye.

The older man startles, eyes flying open as he tries to yank his wrists free of the binds, “Uhhhh, what the fuck?”

Both of you watch as Daniel tries to free himself without any luck, enjoying the show as the silk ties prove they won’t give out. Chills shudder down your spine as your older boyfriend tries to order the two of you to release him, but he must see the feral glint shine in your eyes because he switches to asking when neither of you moves.

“You know what to say if you really want us to let you go, Daniel,” Max states bluntly, pulling off his Enchanté shirt easily. 

You hum in agreement, straddling the Australian’s hips and simultaneously tugging your slip dress over your head and tossing it to the side, exposing your bare body before seating yourself on the bulge showing through the towel. Daniel chokes out a curse, his eyes dancing between yours and Max’s bodies being dangled in front of his face without being able to touch.

He tests the binds for any give half-heartedly before sniffing dismissively, jaw tightening as he challenges Max, “Do your worst, baby.”

Max scoffs out a laugh, “That is the plan.”

From there you and Max turn into savages. Both of you bypass kissing Daniel, pressing lips and biting bruises along his neck and torso instead. The man can only cry out as Max terrorizes his nipples with teeth and pinching fingers while you paint marks on his hipbones and navel. The older man isn’t convinced that the night will end without the two of you seriously attempting cannibalism but the thought is pushed away when the towel is tugged off his hips.

Max laughs mockingly and flicks Daniel’s already-hardened length, “Well, this will be even easier than we thought, liefje.”

“I was half-hard from the minute you guys put your hands on me,” Daniel snipes, “Don’t let this go to your head.”

You raise an eyebrow in question, tilting your head to the side innocently which contrasts the strong grasp of your hand around the head of Daniel’s cock, “Isn’t that a compliment, though? Anyways, it clearly went to your head.”

Daniel groans in pleasure as you start to rapidly stroke along his quickly reddening length, “That was a terrible pun–fuck–but, I’m only letting it slide because your hand is on my cock.”

He bucks up into your fist and you release him immediately, smiling as you see him choke down a whimper of disappointment. The older man isn’t left alone for long, as Max drags the tip of his index finger along the slit of Daniel’s cock before flattening his palm across the head and roughly circling it to overwhelm him with an alarming amount of pleasure-coated friction. 

The brunette can’t stifle his cries this time nor can he buck his hips, thanks to the Dutchman pinning him down with his free forearm. Max pulls both of his hands away quickly, delighting in Daniel’s sounds of displeasure, the two of you watching as he attempts to chase a hand that isn’t there anymore. His length is throbbing, pulsing angrily, redder than the blush that stains his tanned chest. You swallow wantingly. Both of you thought that you would be able to get a few more rounds out of a handjob, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Max gets his hand around the base and yours circles the tip. Simultaneously, the two of you start rubbing him off in time, keeping your fists just tight enough and your motions just quick enough to hurtle Daniel to the edge. He throws his head back into the pillows, hips freely bucking as neither one of you attempts to stop him, his hands pulling against the ties all the while,

“You can cum whenever you want, Daniel,” Max states.

The older man lets out several pants of desperation, calling both of your names as he nears his climax. And when you both see the telltale sign of Daniel’s chest rising and falling heavily, you release his cock.

“No! Wait–shit,” he tries to gasp, but it’s too late. His cock starts leaking, jerking pathetically as cum drips down his length in ribbons—his orgasm ruined. Dry sobs escape his lungs as he humps the air, looking for friction that isn’t there, continuing to beg for a hand even as he struggles to breathe as a result of the unsatisfying release.

You let him come down hard, offering support in a quick squeeze of the meat of his thigh over his tattoo. When he catches his breath, his eyes flutter open. Max sees the wetness gathered in the waterlines and moves in the blink of an eye, enveloping Daniel’s still-hard cock in his mouth. 

The Australian’s back arches off the bed, hips racing forward then backward as he cries out, unsure if the feeling of Max’s mouth is good. Both pairs of your hands fly forward to still Daniel, forcing him to feel every crevice of Max’s tongue and throat, trying to bring him to another orgasm as quickly as possible. It works, Daniel stops fighting and starts obeying, rolling upward into Max’s mouth, whimpering out depravedly as he struggles against his binds again. You see his abs start to undulate in waves, a second orgasm trying to form and you slip your hand underneath Max’s chin, lightly squeezing at Daniel’s balls—and the tears fall as his release slams into him like a semi-truck.

The younger man swallows around Daniel, humming as he does it, yet the bobbing motion of his head doesn’t stop—Max is going to try his hardness to prevent Daniel from going soft, even as the older man tries to fight and twist away from the wet grasp of his throat. The Australian’s tears paint his cheek as he sobs messily, and you’re quick to check in with him as Max’s mouth is occupied.

“Daniel, color?” you manage to make your voice sound steady, but your thighs are trembling, your cunt pulsing with wetness and need. 

The man whimpers, eyes unseeingly looking down at you and Max as he cries messily, “Green.”

You moan breathily, finally giving in to your urges and rushing forward to messily kiss Daniel. You let him cry into your mouth, nipping at his lips and tasting his tears before pulling away. Max pulls off Daniel’s cock with a reedy gasp and moves backward quickly so you can slip in between them, seating your cunt atop the half-hard length and beginning to grind along him. The brunette makes a sound as if he’s been punched in the gut, arms pausing in their fight against the ties before they resume with renewed strength. Daniel scrambles to get his feet underneath him, trying to buck off the hot, wet drag of your cunt against his cock. It’s pulsing so violently that he swears he can feel it in his throat. 

Max knocks his feet down, and tugs Daniel’s chin to look at him with a hardened grasp, with his voice rough and croaky he commands, “Can you give us one more, Daniel?”

Daniel's glossy, brown eyes stare at Max without answer, mouth parted as drool slips from the corners of his lips. The Dutchman’s brow tightens with worry and he releases his chin to pull you off. But, before he can stop you, Daniel gasps out desperately.

“M’ green—please, please, Max,” Daniel nods viciously, “Green, green—one more.”

The younger man soothes Daniel with sweet words, praising and comforting him as he leans forward to pepper his lips and neck with kisses and kitten licks, pausing to motion you to continue. 

You line up Daniel’s cock easily and murmur out a ‘thank you’, before sinking down and not stopping until your ass meets his pelvis, uncaring of how he attempts to shake you off. His body is reacting in too much, but Max and you both see and hear how his brain interprets it as too good. 

You keen in pleasure but your noises are deafened by Daniel’s cries and begs for relief. Well aware that you have to get yourself off so Max can have a turn, you find that toe-curling angle with the help of Max directing your hips, holding yourself steady with one hand behind you on the bed and the other drawing rapid circles on your clit. Max moves to let you rest your back along his chest, your frizzed curls a mess as they bounce with your movements. 

The visual stimulation of Daniel in front of you moaning and heaving for more, the frantic twitching of his length inside of you, the sound of your skin slapping against his, and Max’s voice ghosting right by your ear, the ‘good girl’ that left his lips taking a second to process; all of it pushes you into the abyss. You don’t know if it’s you or Daniel that screams, your blood rushing in your ears and your vision flashing white clouds your mind as the explosion of pleasure burns your nerve endings. 

With a choked ‘fuck,’ you slump over, slipping off his twitching cock and slinking down next to Daniel as you shiver and shake through the last dregs of pleasure. Max flutters over both of you, unsure if he should keep pushing the limit, but both you and Daniel yell confirmations of “Green!” that have Max ripping off his briefs, reaching between his legs and whimpering as he carefully tugs out the plug he’s had in for the entire time.

Daniel’s eyes roll in disbelief, his brain exhausted to the point where he can’t string together any words to communicate his confusion.

Max huffs out a hysterical giggle, one hand stroking along his cock as he tosses the plug off the side of the bed. “Fuck–you were in the shower forever, Daniel. I’ve had that in for too long.”

The younger man shakes as he lowers himself on Daniel’s cock, bottoming out with a whimper as he mouths down at Daniel, “Just one more, baby, okay? Make me come, yeah?”

The older man’s moan is curdled with overstimulation, but he finds the will to get his feet underneath him and shakily thrust upwards into Max, hoping somehow that that’s enough. Max lets his head fall back in pleasure, thankful for the moving pressure of Daniel’s cock inside of him rather than the consistent annoyance of the plug holding him open. Coupled with the stretch of his rim and his hand furiously twisting along his length, Max reaches his peak quickly.

Before taking the plunge, he chokes out words of praise at Daniel and you rush to do the same, understanding that Max is attempting to push Daniel over the edge as well. You see tears of frustration build in Daniel’s eyes as he struggles to fully give in, and you fall forward to tug at his nipples with your teeth, reinvigorating Daniel’s attempts at slipping from the silk ties. At the sight, Max shouts, body tightening and then relaxing as he strokes out ribbons of cum. Daniel’s hips stutter when the first drop of cum lands on his skin and you feel his lungs halt as the strongest orgasm—most likely dry, at that—wreaks havoc upon his body.

His body goes limp underneath the two of you, and his hands droop in their binds. You speedily untie Daniel’s arms as Max slowly slips off the man’s rapidly softening length, trying to lessen any unwanted stimulation for the unaware Australian. You catch his arms before they fall against the bed, rubbing your hands against them to coax proper blood flow in them. Spent, Max stumbles to Daniel’s side, taking one arm out of your hands and matching your movements.

“Good job, liefje,” Max breathes out, smiling up at you with an exhausted smile, his hair drenched with sweat and falling in front of his eyes. You blush and kiss him sweetly, “It was your idea!”

Max shakes his head, pausing his hands to reach down and brush Daniel’s curls off his forehead, “No; you made half of the plan. So, it was our idea.”

The Australian groans, eyes fluttering open but they’re still clouded enough that you both know he’s going to need more than enough TLC tonight, “ —idea made me think i w‘sgonna die.”

Max laughs, rubbing circles around the man’s temple, “I guess we forgot to factor in your old age as a variable, didn’t we, liefje?”

Daniel’s face flutters in displeasure at being referred to as “old,” even when he’s not quite come down, “Mean, Maxy.”

You giggle, “That’s what he calls mean out of this entire experience?”

The Dutchman presses kisses to both of your foreheads before he stumbles out of bed, “I’m going to grab some fruit and cream for Daniel’s wrists. Should I grab anything else?” He directs the question to you.

Of course, the Australian jumps in before you have the chance to respond, “Lemonade, please.”

© httpsserene2024

[kjupchurch-xx]

Conflicting Feelings Part Two

Author's Note: Wow! I was expecting negative feedback from Conflicting Feelings and I'm absolutely blown away at how it's been received on WattPad, especially Tumblr. I'm thankful to each and everyone of you that takes the time out to read my stories. They're literally my own personal fantasies in my mind, so I wasn't expecting others to enjoy them as much as I obviously do. But thank you for all of the love! 

The night had flown by as we laid on the sofa holding one another in silence. I felt his breathing steady, looking up slightly to see him sleeping. I sighed. I didn't know what to say or what to feel. There was no doubt in my mind that I loved him. The problem is the guilt I feel knowing that my friendship with him is what caused his marriage to collapse. I'm well aware that I can't control someone else's emotions or actions, and I know that throughout the course of our friendship, I did nothing wrong but the thoughts still consume me. 

Had he never met me, would his marriage be ending? Would he have found solace in another person?  I'd always envisioned that if this were to ever become a reality, it would be done very differently. This is not what I wanted, but did I want him? Absolutely. Truth be told, I'd never wanted anything more. 

I tilted my head, looking at him as I softly caressed his beard sighing to myself as I anxiously chewed at my bottom lip. I pulled my phone from my pocket, clicking on social media to see the news of their split had hit the internet. I shook my head, putting my phone beside me. I knew their marriage wasn't the most loving. Every premiere we'd go to for his movies, even his musicals, Deb never seemed interested. She could always be found in the crowd dozed off, being shaken awake just in the nick of time to give him a round of applause at the end. He knew this. I was always the one cheering, watching his every move even if I was bored out of my mind. I was the one who would spend hours going over lines with him when I had zero involvement in the film or play he was doing. When she would try to talk him out of certain scripts, I'd encourage them, not to spite her but because I knew he would make it a hit. 

My supportive nature was what he craved the most. He craved someone that believed in him, pushed him to do better and to further his career, and for years, ever since she tried talking him out of the X-Men script calling it a flop, he never received it from her. When his father passed and all she could manage to do was say she was sorry was when he started to realize the younger woman that had his back and supported him in every aspect of his life, even when she herself wasn't interested. The effect it had on him drove him mad and he couldn't continue denying his feelings. 

 I wrapped my arms tightly around him, closing my eyes as  took his scent in, "If you only knew how much I love you..." I said, barely above a whisper. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. Including flying halfway across the world. I just wish things could be different..." I finished with a deep shaky breath.

His grip tightened on me, "That's the thing. Things are different." He said softly as I lifted my head to look up at him. "How long have you been awake?" I asked, furrowing my brows slightly. 

He chuckled, "Long enough to hear what you said.", I nodded with a chuckle, "Touche." 

He cleared his throat, "Let me take you to lunch tomorrow." 

I lifted myself off of him, quickly shaking my head no, "Absolutely not. Are you crazy?" I yelled. 

He rolled his eyes, "Why do you act as if being with me is such a bad thing?" He asked getting defensive, his words dripping with hurt. 

I looked at him, lowering my voice, "Hugh, that's not what I'm saying." 

He looked at, throwing his hands up in defeat, "It's not?! What are you saying then?!" he shouted at me. 

I rolled my eyes becoming annoyed at his shouting, "I'm saying news of your separation made headlines today. I don't think the smartest thing in the world would be for my face to be blasted all over the internet as a mistress just because I had lunch with you."

He calmed down, sighing, running his fingers through his hair, "Why do you all of a sudden give a shit about people's opinions?" 

I sighed, "Look, I know you don't get it. People not liking me is fine. But people humiliating me and possibly canceling me before I can fully kick start my career because they assume I'm some dirty mistress is different." I said honestly.  He looked at me and I knew judging by his expression that he understood my hesitance. "I'm just saying we need to lay low and look as platonic as possible right now. Let's let some time pass before we start advertising this to the world." 

He nodded, giving his shoulders a shrug, relaxing a little. "If you want to get take out, we can do that. I would love to have lunch with you, I'm just not ready to be ripped in half by the press yet." I said softly, caressing the side of his check. "That's all it is. I would never say that being with you is a bad thing. I love you with all of my heart. We just need to give it more than one day after a separation has been announced. At least a few months." 

He nodded once more, pulling me onto his lap. "I know you're right. It's just difficult when I've already been waiting two years for this." He said annoyingly, resting his head in the crook of my neck. 

I laughed softly, pressing a kiss on the top of his hair, resting my chin atop of his head. "I know, I know. Just trust me, you do not want the press printing that you've got a girlfriend the same day your soon to be ex-wife announces your separation." 

I felt him smile against my neck, "Okay, maybe you're right." He mumbled, against my neck causing me to laugh, squirming. "What? What's so funny?" He asked, caressing my neck with his face. 

He knew what I was laughing at. 

"Your beard. It tickles." I said through laughter. "Does it?" He asked cheekily, continuing to rub his face into my neck causing me to try and get off of his lap, but he kept his grip on my waist, preventing me from moving. "Where do you think you're goin', love?" He asked with an amusing tone. 

"Away from you. Stop messing with me." I said continuing to laugh while struggling to get out of his grip. 

He smirked, "Stop messing with you? How should I mess with you then? Like this?" He asked, pulling us down to the sofa as he pressed his forehead against mine, looking deeply into my eyes, with a smile plastered on his face. 

His eyes went from my eyes down to my lips, then back up to my eyes. "I love you." He said sweetly, "I love you." I assured him, as I felt his hands cup both sides of my cheeks and his lips land on mine. 

[interstellarrisa]

I manifested money two times today

a/n: hi everyone, ik i've been gone for 2 weeks but i'm back and with a success story and two mini ones lol. not the reason as to why i was gone but whatever :P btw this post is not proofread cuz im rlly tired

Decide

I needed new clothes since school is starting soon for me but we didn't really have enough money to go "back to school" shopping and so going shopping would've been kind of difficult but instead of getting sad and just accepting that story i decided to use my knowledge of the law of assumption.

It was late at night and I was tired and as I was falling asleep I thought "Why not use this moment to manifest some money?" When we fall asleep our brain is in a very open-minded state (dunno if that's the right thing to call it). It doesn't try to fight back or question suggestions it just kind of accepts them, and so I decided to manifest money. To be exact 200$ when converted.

Imagine it and accept it

As I laid there on my bed I kept on imagining how I had 200$. I would imagine my mom coming into my room and saying that she got 200$ or affirm that I had it. I even dared to get a bit bolder and start affirming that I would get more.

When any doubts would arise especially logical ones I would just go "Is logic really necessary?" and start questioning the logic. Like wdym "Where would you get that money from" or "It's impossible, there's no reason as to why I would just get money without any reason" I questioned the logic instead of making the logic question me.

Anyways, I just accepted that I had it and fell asleep. I did have a strange dream tho but nonetheless I fell asleep knowing I had it and that it was inevitable that I was going to wake up to the news of it.

Persist

Whenever I wake up I am in a kind of daze for like 10 minutes where I'm awake but my eyes are closed and my mind is really foggy, almost like I'm between the border of the waking world and the dream world (just say hypnogogia girl). I've always thought that this state would be good for manifesting but I've never done it.

When I woke up and was in this daze like state I decided to take advantage of it and do the same thing I did before I fell asleep, after that I just continued on with my day occasionally thinking about I should buy. I wasn't even worrying about the money I just knew that I had it.

That morning my mom had gone out to buy some groceries and when she came home she just told me that she had gotten 250$ and what was my reaction to that you may wonder, it was just a simple "cool". I didn't even realize that it had manifested because I already knew it would happen but like on a subconscious level, so I was just thinking that it was nice and not like "WOWOWOOWOWOW WATAHECK I JUST MANIFESTED 200$"

It was not until 3 hours had passed and I was in the bathroom washing my hands that I realized that it was ME who was the reason for the money, and even then I just gasped really quickly and calmed down. Maybe I'm just that type of person who calms down fast? Anyways, the title did say that I manifested money two times right?

Decide + Imagine it and accept it + Persist

After going shopping I was sad because buying things actually cost money!!! WDYM YOU'RE TAKING MY MONEY AFTER I JUST BOUGHT SOMETHING!!! I THOUGHT THE NUMBERS ONSCREEN WERE THERE JUST TO INTIMIDATE ME AND NOT THE AMOUNT YOU'RE TAKING FROM ME/j

As I was walking out the mall I was decided to change my mindset from that of a person who just spent a lot of money and is sad about it to a person who doesn't care because they know money goes round and round and they'll eventually get it back.

Essentially: poor person mindset → rich person mindset.

When I got home I talked to my dad and he was like "Blah blah blah... focus on your studies...blah blah blah...take care of yourself...blah blah blah I'm giving you 150$...blah blah blah...again focus on school..."

Again I only realized I just manifested it when I opened tumblr LMAO, and I guess my advice is stick with a mindset and know it'll happen, you don't need to affirm a thousand times or constantly think about not that doing those things don't work and will ruin your manifestation but relaxing is also nice I guess.

a/n: what a yapfest lol anyways the other two mini success were manifesting a toothbrush and changing the weather to fog, bye for now !!

divider by @/anitalenia

[ooffmlsorry]

Hold Me Closer

Law x reader

2.4k words, slow burn for a tumblr post i guess??

A/N: Law is such a touch-starved disaster in this god bless him. Don't worry...this is my last drunk post. I don't wanna accidentally promote alcoholism on this good Christian hellsite I just need to write my fav blorbo drunk and in love once and then I'm good.

CW: drinking, drunk behavior

"You know, for as smart as Law is you really can manipulate him into just about anything," Nami says. "He's no better than Luffy, as soon as you tell him he can't do something he has to go and try it."

"Huh?" You're drunk, and by the look of the Straw Hat's navigator significantly more so than her. (What are the Straw Hats' livers made out of? Steel?)

You follow your gaze to your captain, Trafalgar Law, and feel a giddy bubble of laughter make its way through you. "I'm just happy to see him cut loose for once," you say. From the looks of it he might actually be tipsy. Law’s cheeks are flushed a little and he’s talking animatedly about something. The shine in his eyes captivate you. 

Yeah, you're definitely feeling the effects if you're openly giggling at the sight of him.

Despite your last thought you take another sip of your drink. It stopped tasting sweet and sharp a while ago and is starting to taste more and more like I should be next to him.

"He's so beautiful when he's happy," you mutter.

"What?!" Nami presses her hand flush to her chest and turns to look at you. A mischievous grin passes over her tipsy face, "beautiful, huh?" She pokes your side playfully and giggles. "What's that supposed to mean?”

"Nothing!" You flinch away from her and drain your drink to quench your suddenly dry mouth. "You like seeing Luffy happy! It's the same thing!"

She laughs so loud and so hard she nearly falls out of her chair. "Oh yeah! Sure! But have you ever heard me call Luffy beautiful?"

At that exact moment you watch Luffy snort with laughter and shoot beer out of his nose. 

"Point taken.”

“He’s not my type, that’s for sure,” Nami says.

“No, your type is Alabastan princesses,” you tease back. 

“Hey!” Her ears pink a little more. “It’s not…” she stammers. “You know what! You’re getting me my next drink just for that!” She pushes her empty mug towards you. “Chop! Chop, Y/N! I’m thirsty!” 

You roll your eyes. It’s true all the Straw Hats are bossy in one way or another, no wonder they exhaust Law. You grab her mug and yours and head to the bar for another round.

Your eyes move back to where you last saw Law talking with someone, except he wasn’t there anymore. Where did he go? The room’s crowded with people talking and laughing, yelling and singing. Between the alcohol and another raucous round of Binx’s Sake sung across the banquet, it’s hard to focus. Did he leave already? Disappointment washed over you, but you weren’t surprised. That would be your captain, Trafalgar Law, ever restrained. 

You sighed. Hopefully he didn’t go back to the ship to get more work done. You fill up yours and Nami’s cup and start to head back to your seat. 

“You’re drinking poison, you know that Y/N-ya?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin at the hot breath against the shell of your ear. Then, you process what was said to you. Poison? Instinctively you reach for a weapon, and then remember you left it behind. 

“What? Law—” 

Barely have room to turn around, he’s standing so close to you. The flush in cheeks is darker than you realized and his dark eyes have lost some of their sharpness. A mischievous smirk plays upon his lips. “And you tell me I need to lighten up?” You’re not met with the level of seriousness you normally expect from your captain. “This,” he holds his mug up, only nearly sloshing its contents, “is poison. It’s the ethanol. That’s what slows you down, it’s not all that different from slowly poisoning yourself.” He puts the cup up to his lips and tips it back. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, the muscles of his neck visible to you until they disappear into his collar bones. You wish you could run your fingers down the column of his throat and watch goosebumps rise in your wake. If he would even have anyone.

It must be the drinks. That’s the only reason you can think of to explain why you want to place your hand there and feel his skin. To touch him. 

“Neither of us should be drinking this, Y/N-ya,” he says. There’s no sterness in his tone like he would if he was lecturing you, in fact, you realize your captain’s likely joking with you…in his own way. 

“Well, sometimes you have to die a little to live a little.” You wink at him. 

Law’s lips part a little and his eyes widen. “I–You–” He looks away from you and takes another sip. “That’s your justification? Ridiculous.”

“It sure is!” You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you take a small step closer, deciding to tease him a little. After all, he started it first by sneaking up on you, “what’s yours?”   

Law stares at you—speechless. 

“You’re something else, you know that?” You don’t have time to hide your laughter except behind your hand. “You don’t need to justify yourself, Law. I’m just happy you’re here!” 

Warmth spreads across your captain’s face. It travels up to the tips of his ears which look crimson next to his spotted white hat and down his chest to the heart tattoo that rests there. For a moment you fixate on his skin, the ink swirling across it, the blood pumping underneath, a sign that he’s alive and solid, standing in front of you. Curiosity rears its untameable head, how can you know he’s solid if you’ve never touched him? A missing piece of Law sits in front of you and you want. 

“Just don’t drink too much,” he says quickly and side steps to walk around you. 

You watch him go, shaking your head with a smile. “I would say, hope he does the same, but it’d be funny if he didn’t.” 

“Y/N!!” Nami calls. “Where’s my drink!?”

“Coming!” 

Later…

Oh yeah, you’ve done it now. Somewhere between fruitlessly trying to keep up with Nami, drowning your thoughts of Law, and enjoying the party, you’re certain you’ve overdone it…and you’ve only accomplished the latter. 

“That’s enough or I’m gonna die,” you stand up and your head swims. You use the chair you were sitting in to stablize yourself. 

“Boo!” Shachi says weakly. Although his head is resting on the table, barely awake.

“Yeah, Boo!” Nami repeats.“Who’s gonna watch me drain your crew of all their money?!” 

 You shrug,“Bepo will.”

The first mate of the Heart Pirates was laid out on the floor asleep. 

“Any chance you know where Law is?” 

“Last I saw him, he went outside,” Penguin says. He grins and laughs a little before slipping out of his chair with a thud.

Safe to say the Heart Pirates were a crew of light weights. 

You stumble toward the door that leads out to the balcony. Outside the night air is cold enough to send a shiver through you, but Penguin didn’t send you out there for nothing. Law is sitting with his legs between the balcony bars, his head leaning on another. In the light of paper lanterns you saw his hand moving in quick small movements. Next to him sat an empty bottle of umeshu.

“Either you’re jacking off out here or you’re working. Only one of those things would be disappointing to me,” you say. In the back of your mind you know you’d never say something like that out loud but alcohol makes your lips loose. 

The sound Law makes is less than controlled as he jerks a book shut and sits on it. “NEVER SAY THAT AGAIN!”  

You start laughing and fall down next to him unceremoniously, nearly landing flat on your back. “I’m sorry, captain! I couldn’t–I couldn’t help myself!” you howl with laughter. “Please! I didn’t–the joke was just right there!” 

You hear Law grumble-slur something, but he’s either too drunk or too tired to get up and leave you because he stays where he is. 

“I mean it,” you say, catching your breath. “I am sorry. I just came out here to tell you I think the party’s dying down. You can come inside if you want to. It’s only supposed to get colder tonight.” 

“I will when I’m ready,” Law slurs. 

“As always,” you sigh heavily. “I’ve learned to stop expecting you to do something just because I think it’s a good idea

That wins you a brief smile from your captain, a rarity, surely brought out of him by the drink alone. “You…you can stay,” he says quietly. “If you’d like to. I don’t care either way. Really, I don’t. ” 

Normally, you’d at least begin to believe him, but you know your captain…and he’s already draped half of his long blue coat around you. The scent cologne and antiseptic envelope you. 

“You probably should’ve said that before you put your coat around me, Law.” 

He tenses for a moment. The brim of his hat hides his eyes. “Forgive me, Y/N-ya I’m being ridiculous,” he mumbles.

So shy! 

“I was going to stay anyway,” you say, before he can pull away. “And thank you, I’m probably chillier than I know.” 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while connected only by this moment and Law’s coat draped over both of you. You can feel the warmth radiating from his arm, his side, his thigh, all nearly touching you. 

“Did you have a good time?” 

“As long as I don’t remember any of this tomorrow, you can tell me I did.” 

“Good!” You chirp. “I’ll take it!” 

Law picks up the bottle and takes a long pull. “Did you?” 

“Yup! It’s the first party I’ve been to in a long time. Actually, I haven’t been to any, but that’s another story from before…well, everything.” 

Law snorts, but he doesn’t turn back to leaning his head on the guard bars, instead he stares at you with an expression close to contentment. “Good,” he says. 

Your faces stay a few inches from each other. There’s an eyelash resting on his cheek, just out of your reach and before you can think you gently cup your captain’s face and swipe the eyelash away. 

In an instant he’s solid. Smooth skin and bone rest just below your fingertips. And somehow, despite the sharp angles of Law’s face all you feel is softness and warmth against your skin. To your surprise he doesn’t move away. 

“I’m sorry, you just had an eyelash…” You go to pull your hand back and Law catches your wrist in a grip that’s nearly too tight.

His eyes flutter as he rests his face in your hand. “It feels so nice,” he says. He doesn’t stop you when you slide your fingers up his sideburns into the silky spikes of his hair. You remove his hat and place it beside him. 

Contact between you and Law has been minimal, even after you explained your devil fruit only works on inanimate objects. You think he’s been especially cautious around you not to touch you–even if by accident. Touch doesn’t come easy to you, unconsciously building a wall between yourself and others, with Law being the same that wall felt doubly thick. Only to come crashing down over drinks and an errant eyelash. Touching Law plugs a hole dug out of both want and curiosity that you’ve been ignoring.

Law leans into you as if being pulled down by magnetism until he’s almost on top of you. Your thumb settles behind his ear along the nape of his neck and rubs back and forth slowly. 

You look down at him, his eyes shut and lips barely parted. If it weren’t for the fingers working up the back of your shirt, you’d think he was asleep. Law’s hand stops at the small of your back, resting there like a warm patch. It feels so utterly right having the captain of the Heart Pirates in your arms, as if holding Law was one of the many things they were made for. 

Honesty takes over you. “I think I like being close to you, Law. It feels…warm…good,” you speak softly. If you could be like this all the time you wouldn’t complain. You receive a throaty rumble in response, not unlike a purring animal. “You must be drunk,” you chuckle.

“Extremely.” 

You’re not sure if you feel like you’re spinning from all the alcohol or because of this moment with Law. Eventually you begin to hum softly, and sleep begins to take hold of you. 

“Y/N-ya,” you hear Law say groggily. 

You hum a sound in response to show you’re still awake to listen to him. Law’s arms tighten around you and you understand instantly what he won’t let himself say. Against both your better judgment you drift off to sleep together on the balcony.  

The Next Morning…

Law awakens to dawn’s blinding sun and a pounding headache. His mouth feels cottony and his stomach roils in a way that doesn’t immediately threaten vomit but could. The second thing he takes in is that he’s outside; he never made it to his bed or any bed for that matter. And third, you. 

You’re still asleep, your chin nearly touching your chest and soft snore escaping you with every exhale. You don’t stir as he pulls himself away from you. The realization that he slept on you rocks through him. The sun’s barely risen and his heart’s already racing.

What did I do? 

He rubs at his eyes and scrubs a hand through his hair. Where’s my hat? He quickly finds it and pulls the brim down low enough to block the sun. 

Law takes off his jacket and covers you with it, only when he’s wrapped it around your shoulders do you grumble and smack your lips sleepily. “Don’t worry, Law. All’s good, had fun,” you mumble. 

He freezes. Out of everything he thought you would say, reassuring him didn’t cross his mind. 

Your eyes crack open just enough to look at his stunned face. “Yesterday’s already forgotten.” Loose limbed, you make a sealed lips gesture as if to say your secret's safe with me. 

Law stands and grabs his journal. He takes one more glance at you and feels butterflies flutter from his stomach up to his chest. That's the second time he's felt safe around you, he notes. It's information he chooses to ignore.

[starryhyuck]

how long before we fall in love? (m) — PATREON EXCLUSIVE

pairing: tsundere!doyoung x afab!reader

words: 5k+

summary: your friends don’t think you could possibly get the cold, mean-spirited kim doyoung to beg for you. it’s time to prove them wrong.

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: harddom!doyoung, daddy kink, throat fucking, degradation, car sex, choking, creampie

this fic is exclusive to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here! below is a tumblr preview

Kim Doyoung is two years older than you and about to graduate university.

He’s your perfect type — studious, outgoing, and incredibly caring of others. You almost tripped over your own two feet when you first laid eyes on his adorable bunny smile and button nose that you so desperately want to boop. He’s the walking fantasy of every girl’s ideal husband.

The only problem with your crush is that he hates you.

“Hi, Doyoung,” you say in a flirtatious tone, following him as he walks out of his business operations class. He ignores you, backpack slung over his shoulder as he picks up his pace. You chase after him, convincing yourself that he didn’t hear you the first time. “How was class? I heard Professor Park can be so strict with grading but since you’re top of the class, that must mean you’re his favorite! I mean, they don’t call you a gifted scholar for nothing-“

“I’m not in the mood.”

His voice is curt as he rounds the corner of the building, heading down the stairs. You’re quick to follow him, trying to keep up with his footsteps.

“That’s fine! Some days I’m not really in the mood either. Talking to people can be so exhausting, but I think it’s important to build good social skills.”

Taeyong waits for Doyoung at the bottom of the staircase, eyebrow raised when he sees you trailing not too far behind. Around campus, Taeyong was known as the happy social butterfly with his unique fashion style and colorful hair dos. Once he graduated last year, he was able to secure a job as a social media manager for a respected designer brand. He still lingers on campus from time to time to hang out with Doyoung and some of their other friends. He is very well aware of your pining after his best friend, and it brings him a certain amusement that nothing else can compare to.

Taeyong says your name joyfully. “Are you joining us for lunch today?”

You beam, excited to accept the invitation before Doyoung cuts you off.

“No, she’s not,” he replies with a pointed glare to Taeyong.

“Oh, I don’t mind! I’m done with classes for the rest of the day,” you say with a sparkle gleaming in your eye. The thought of having lunch with Kim Doyoung fulfilled some of your greatest fantasies.

Maybe you’d have remnants of food left over on your chin and he would wipe it away for you! Maybe the portions would be too big so you decide to share! Maybe he pulls out your chair for you when you sit down and holds your purse so no one steals it!

“I don’t want you to join,” Doyoung says with hard conviction.

Taeyong winces at the spiteful nature in his tone. You’re not deterred in the slightest, still blinking at him with a ditzy smile. You guess if he didn’t want to have lunch with you today, surely he would be open to it another time.

want to read the rest? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!

[dem-obscure-imagines]

You're So Timeless | Vol. 2

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve Rogers was visited by his soulmate. He fell hard. Problem is, she was from the future and didn’t stick around for long. Now, in the twenty-first century, he finally found her again, except this version of her hasn’t met him yet and won’t know he’s her soulmate for another year. 

Note: So this is a combination of my other two Steve Rogers soulmate AU fics, but lengthened and fleshed out into a full fic. I was literally possessed to write this. I have no other explanation. I really like how it came out. I gave this one chapter headings (I am also going to post it to Ao3) and yes some are Taylor Swift titles. Sorry about that. It takes place roughly around the time Civil War would, but we have managed to avoid the war this time around. I also moved some other characters up the timeline because I think they’re neat and I said so. Without further ado, please enjoy my new Magnum Opus.

Also Tumblr made me split it into two parts. This is PART 2. Part 1 is linked HERE.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence/injuries, soulmate au, tons of mutual pining, kind of a slowburn but in reverse. Light angst, but a happy ending.

Word Count: 38.7k total (I am not sorry)

Reader Is: Enhanced (forcefields), 24 years old, female 

The Recovery Period

When you woke up, Steve was there sitting in the infirmary, sleeping. His head was leaning back against the wall, snores deep and quiet. It was dark. You weren’t sure how long it had been. You blinked a few times and took a breath, your chest protesting when you did.

The monitor you were hooked to started beeping loudly and Steve awoke, meeting your eyes. He called for Bruce and stood from his chair, approaching the side of your bed. You reached for his hand and he gave it to you immediately, fingers latching onto yours, as though to prove you were awake, that you were alive.

Bruce arrived and gave you the rundown, the grenade, which you remembered, the fact that you had a cracked rib and quite a bit of bruising, but that you had gotten very lucky otherwise. He prescribed you some pain meds and six weeks of rest with a brace before he’d reevaluate.

And at first, it wasn’t bad. Sam played a lot of Fortnite with you. You were pretty good at it, surprisingly. Tony had a pretty extensive collection of movies and you had every snack you could ever dream of. You got some reading done, you picked up crochet, and everyone spent a lot of time entertaining you.

Bucky introduced himself. Steve had talked about him a bit before you met him, but the man standing in front of you was a lot quieter than you’d expected, more timid. You figured he’d open up more once he was convinced none of you were scared of him. And you weren’t. The dangerous part of him was the Winter Soldier, something Wanda had been working with him to unwind from the depths of his mind.

After a few days, when your pain had toned down a bit, Natasha sat you on a stool in the kitchen and gave your hair a trim, getting rid of the singed ends. Wanda got into the undercover stash in one of the bathrooms and found a few bottles of hair bleach and some blue dye. Steve found the three of you in there with hair shears, and a bowl of mixed blue dye that Wanda was painting onto your freshly bleached ends.

He had no complaints. After all, blue was your color. It was quite a bit shorter, too, but he thought it suited you. He thought everything suited you, to be honest.

You did some online shopping in those first few weeks. Your Avengers allowance was no joke and you had barely touched any of it yet, which meant a new reading chair was well within the budget, a cool round one than you could hang from the ceiling. It was Steve that found you pushing the giant box down the hall when it arrived.

“Hey! Woah, are you supposed to be pushing that?”

You froze, turning to face him. “Maaaaybe.”

“Alright, move.” He chuckled, rolling up his sleeves and taking over, pushing it down the hall to your room. “What is this anyway?”

“New reading chair. It’s really cool, it hangs from the ceiling.”

“And you were going to do that part, too?”

“I was gonna figure it out. Maybe use my powers for that part.”

“Ah, right. Forgot about those.”

“Me too, honestly. Haven’t used them much lately.”

“For good reason.” He straightened out, the box now sitting in the middle of your room. “How are you feeling, better?”

“A lot better. Still a little sore, but my bruises are starting to clear up.” You motioned to the brace you had to wear around your middle. “Might be out of this thing before six weeks if I can help it.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see what Bruce says.”

“Of course.” You nodded, using a pair of scissors to slice the tape along the top of the box.

Steve opened it up and started taking parts out. You reached for the instructions and sat down next to him on the floor, familiarizing yourself with the process. It didn’t look too difficult and it was only a few pieces of hardware.

“I’m gonna go grab some of Tony’s tools.” He told you, walking towards Tony’s workroom. He returned a few minutes later with a drill and a screwdriver. “Alright, where are we starting?”

“Okay, so we attach the chair part to the support chains, and then those get screwed into the ceiling. Like this.” You showed him the diagram.

“I’m no handyman, but I think we can figure it out.” He grinned, scooting a little closer to you.

“Oh I’m sure we can.”

It didn’t take long. Less than an hour. The two of you talked, joked, laughed. Eventually, you used your powers to hold the thing in place so Steve could screw it into the ceiling. He got off the stepladder and sat in the chair, testing the strength of the chair himself before deciding it was good enough for you. With a smile, he got up and motioned for you to give it a try.

You put the cushions on the chair and sat down, smiling. “I’ve always wanted a chair like this.”

“Well I’m glad I could help that dream come true.” He chuckled. He handed you the book sitting on your desk. “Here, give it a real test.”

“Oh good idea.” You chuckled, positioning the book in your hands, curling your legs into your desired reading position. Yep, it worked. And it was pretty comfortable. “Now all I need is a little lamp over here.”

“Let me know when that comes in.” Steve chuckled, thumbs tucked into his pockets. “I’ll be here.”

Steve watched you with a soft smile, how happy you were. Maybe someday, he would build other things for you, in a house you shared. A nice little place in the suburbs, or on a farm somewhere, like Clint had made for his wife, Laura. He’d build you a million reading chairs. Hell, he’d build you a whole library if it’d put that smile on your face.

“You ever built Legos before?” you asked.

“I don’t even know what those are.”

“Alright, we’ll fix that. There’s a really easy fix to that, actually.” You pulled out your phone, clicked a few links, and then looked back up at him with a smile. “It’s on its way.”

“What’s that look for?”

“You will find out in two to three business days.”

***

By the time your Millennuim Falcon Lego set came in, Steve had been sent on another mission. And while he was gone, the Compound got an unexpected visitor in the form of Scott Lang, who Sam found on the roof and promptly got his ass kicked by while you were sitting at the monitors, one of the only things that you could do with your current injury.

“Don’t tell Steve.”

“Oh I won’t.” You spun out of your office chair, made a portal to the warehouse, and stepped through it, using your augmented goggles to find the guy, trapping him in a tiny forcefield. Sam came into the warehouse shortly after, looking at the bubble you’d made with interest.

“Got him. Ow!” Something nipped at your ankle and you looked down to find hundreds of ants. “Oh FUCK no.” You dropped him and kicked off the ants, making a platform of energy to stand on so they couldn’t crawl on you.

“Hey man, she’s injured!” Sam called into the room, looking around for wherever he had gone.

“Sorry!” The attacker replied.

And that was the last you saw or heard from him until Sam tracked him down, offering him membership on the team, if he so wanted it. Someone who shrunk could be a great asset on the team. Which is why when he told the rest of you about Hope, someone who did the same but with wings, obviously, she was invited, too.

The team was growing, and as it did, the Compound felt less empty, which was nice, especially when the team was split off doing their own things.

Steve came back shortly after, looking tired. It hadn’t been anything too bad, from what you’d heard, but he, Natasha, Clint, and Tony had been gone for a week. Still, the moment he was back, he popped his head into your room.

“Hey.”

“When did you guys get back?” You asked, looking up from your book, curled up in your reading chair.

“Just now. Um, I’m gonna take a shower, and then…Legos?” He asked, eyes earnest. You could tell he had been thinking about it the whole time he’d been gone.

“Oh absolutely. I’ve got ‘em ready to go.”

“Excellent. See you in twenty.” He saluted, walking down the hall to his room. You got the massive box of Legos out of your closet and brought it out to the table in the lounge, waiting patiently for Steve, who got out of the shower not that long after, dressed in sweats and a tank-top, still a bit damp from the water.

“Tadaaaa~” you said, pushing the box across the table. 

His eyes lit up as soon as he realized what it was. “Where did you get this?”

“Amazon.”

“It comes with Han Solo?” Steve asked, looking at the pictures of the minifigures on the box.

“Yeah, of course it does. Comes with Leia, too.” You grinned, opening the box and dealing out instruction manuals, sorting the bags into neat little piles.

“This is great.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged. “I owe you one for building my reading chair. Now pay attention; This little orange thing is a Lego separator. It’ll help if you get them stuck together and can’t get them apart. Oh, and do not step on them. It will hurt so bad.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for the heads-up. So where do we start?”

Catch Me Now

Finally, after what felt like the longest recovery period ever, you were cleared once more for missions and training. However, you didn’t have any at the moment. Missions, that was. You were back to training with the others three times a week. Steve had you back on a workout regimen, but he was treating you different, like at any moment your rib might randomly re-crack.

Wanda and Vision got sent off on a mission with Clint, a recruitment mission. Apparently, there was another archer on his radar. A good one. It was his hope that with another archer on the team, he could take a bit of a step back, still be involved when he was needed, but hopefully, he’d be able to spend some more time with his family.

This meant, however, that you didn’t have anyone to go to the local theater’s Hunger Games marathon with. You asked Natasha first, but she was busy looking through some files, working out the details of the coming missions.

“I think Steve is here today. You could ask him if he wants to go.”

You could, you supposed. You felt a lot closer to him, lately. You had been spending a lot of time with him, between the extra training and the Legos. He had custody of the Millennium Falcon set, but he’d given you the Leia minifigure. She was sitting on your desk in your room.

So, with a shrug, you agreed, walking down the hall to Steve’s room and knocking on the door. He and Bucky were in there, talking hushedly about something, but they quieted at the sound of your knuckles against the wood.

The door opened and Bucky looked down at you, smiling when he realized who it was. “Oh, hey, (Y/N).” He welcomed you in, shooting Steve a look.

“Hey, (Y/N). What’s going on?”

“If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“Oh, no, we’re just…catching up.” Steve said.

“Gotcha. So um…Wanda was supposed to go to a movie marathon with me at the mall today, but she forgot she had to go on that mission, so I was wondering if you wanted to come with? I already bought the tickets.”

“Oh, sure. What movies?”

“The Hunger Games.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Steve nodded. “Just let me get changed.”

“You can come too, if you want, Bucky. I’m sure they’re not sold out.”

“Oh, that is alright, (Y/N). Thank you, though. I’ve gotta work myself up to public outings.” He looked between the two of you, a weird sparkle in his eye. “You two have fun.”

“Will do.” Steve replied, chuckling as his friend left.

You left after, getting changed into the outfit you’d picked out. It was pretty simple: a bleach-dyed Hunger Games shirt, some comfy joggers for the long day ahead, and a pair of slip-on shoes. You grabbed your purse and walked back out to the living room, where Steve was waiting, dressed in his civilian disguise, a baseball cap and glasses. No one would ever recognize him in glasses.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” You nodded, plucking your keys off of the hook by the door.

“Oh, I can drive.” Steve offered.

“Okay.” You agreed, putting your keys back.

He picked up his instead, from the hook next to yours. You walked out and got in Steve’s car, hopping in the passenger seat. The mall was about an hour out. Steve took the backroads, the scenic route. But you didn’t have to give him directions. He knew where he was going. After all, it was the same mall where he had met you.

You gazed out the window, watching the trees go by, looking for deer. Steve gazed over at you every so often, thinking about how someday, when you were driving places, he’d be able to reach over and take your hand, bring it to his lips. His heart ached just thinking about it. The next four and a half months couldn’t pass quickly enough.

“So what are these movies about? I keep hearing about them.” He asked, desperate to hear your voice.

“Are you familiar with the dystopian genre?”

“Yeah, kinda. Like weird, bad future kinda stuff.”

“Exactly. So this one is in a world called Panem, which is supposed to be North America hundreds of years from now. There’s twelve districts and a Capitol that rules over them all. Because of a rebellion about seventy-four years earlier, every year, two kids are chosen from each district to battle to the death in an arena.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah it’s kind of a lot. It’s really good, though. Lots of commentary on the United States government. No offense.”

He chuckled. “None taken. The America I stood for back then…I’m learning it was a different America from the one we live in now. But it’s hard to shake a name that’s been stuck with you for the better part of a century.”

“What would you choose?”

“What name?”

“Yeah, if you got to choose again, now, what codename would you choose?”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Something cool. I’d need help workshopping. And you? If you got to choose again?”

“I’m good with Waypoint. For a while, at least.” You shrugged. “It’s kinda fitting, all things considered.”

“It is. Suits you.”

“Thanks.” You chuckled. “So how is everything? How is Bucky doing?”

“Good. They’re um, scheduling a day to test out his…what’re they called, his trigger words? To see if Wanda’s tinkering in his head has been working.”

“Oh wow. That sounds like a lot.”

“It is. He’s nervous, but he knows it has to be done.” Steve sighed and gave a shrug. “And whatever happens, he’s got us to catch him, figure out what comes next.”

“Absolutely.” You nodded.

Steve pulled into the mall parking lot, following the signs to find the doors closest to the theater. You handed him his ticket, which was printed on shimmery, gold paper, the Mockingjay symbol stamped on in black ink. You reached into your pocket and handed him a length of string with beads on it.

“I made it for Wanda, so it might not fit.” You warned.

He read the words, spaced between orange and black and gold beads. “District 12?”

“It’ll make more sense in a bit.” You chuckled and held out your wrist, where the matching one was. “Gotta represent.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He slipped the bracelet on, the beads spaced out and stretched around his wide wrist. “See, fits fine.”

“Uh-huh, sure does.” You laughed. “Look, it fits perfectly. You can almost read it.”

“Just about.” He grinned, reaching for the door handle.

“So, what’s our cover?”

“What?”

“Our cover. We can’t be Avengers here.”

“Right, um…” Steve thought for a moment. “You work at the library. I’m your boyfriend and you dragged me here, but I’m very supportive.”

“The most supportive.” You agreed. “Alright, I’ll play. Let’s go.”

Steve locked up the car, the horn honking as the two of you walked towards the entrance of the mall. You led him upstairs to the movie theater entrance. You checked in with your tickets and the girls at the table gave you your commemorative popcorn tins and cups. Steve went to get the popcorn filled. You stood over by the soda fountains. He returned with a huge grin and a bucket of popcorn.

“Look at this! They’re so big now.”

You laughed. “How big were they before?”

“Little paper bag.” He chuckled and turned towards the Cocacola Freestyle machine, looking at the buttons with wonder. “Alright what is this?”

“The future of beverage technology.” You told him, putting ice in your cup and tapping one of the beverage options, opening up all the extra flavors before choosing yours.

Steve poked the Coke button and read over all the options before settling on Cherry Vanilla Coke. He snapped the lid on and put a straw in it, taking a cursory sip. He smiled. “Takes me back.”

“Got that vintage taste?” You asked.

He nodded. “At the risk of sounding like a commercial, yeah, it does.”

You led Steve to the theater where you’d be spending the entire rest of the day. You walked him through the schedule. First was Hunger Games from noon until 2:22. There’d be a ten minute break, then Catching Fire from 2:32 to 4:58. There was a forty-five minute break for dinner. Then Mockingjay Parts 1 and 2 until just after ten. Every movie, they punched a hole in your ticket, and if you got all four, they were handing out little prizes, supposedly. You weren’t sure what yet, but you were excited to find out.

“Got a long day ahead of us.”

“I better not catch you nodding off.” You teased, kicking back the recliner.

“I don’t snore that loud.” He said, following your lead and pressing the same button to lift his. God, theaters had changed. He set the popcorn tin between the two of you. He couldn’t count on two hands how many pointless dates he’d gone on with Bucky before he met you for the first time, how many pretty dames he’d offered popcorn, only for them to completely blow him off. But when he’d taken you to the movies back then, you’d shared gladly. And today was no different. You scooted closer, your hand brushing his every so often.

The movie started and Steve watched, enamored. It was different than the movies he was used to, sure. Maybe Star Wars had warmed him up, or maybe it was the fact that you were sitting there beside him, but he loved every second.

Between movies, the two of you went back out to the lobby to get your tickets punched for Catching Fire, stretch your legs and get refills. Steve noticed a handout for the flashback movies that were coming up. His eyes landed on the Wizard of Oz and his gaze softened.

“They still show this?” Steve asked, pointing to the poster.

“Yeah, every handful of years. It’s a classic.” You smiled. “I think I was Dorothy for Halloween one year.”

“Would you go see it with me?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

Sure, things were different between you and Steve than he thought it would be. He knew it would be a while before you’d know. You’d told him you’d been friends for about a year before visiting him, but it felt so much longer, living through every day, scared to even take your hand without sending the wrong message.

You saved him the trouble, though, reaching out for his free hand. He took it without hesitation, giving it a squeeze. God, he’d do anything to kiss you, but he knew that would be stepping clear over that line. Holding hands was friendly enough. Hell, you held Wanda’s hand all the time and that didn’t mean anything. He was pretty sure, anyway.

“Where’d you go just now?” You asked, your hand his anchor in the moment, keeping him from drifting back off into the past again.

“Nowhere, I just…this is nice. Thanks for taking me out.”

“Thanks for coming with me.”

You went back into the theater, hand in hand, carrying your refills. This time, you’d gotten a slushee, and he had decided to do the same. You settled back into your seats, assuming your spots with the people you had been sitting near before. If anything, there were even more people in the theater for Catching Fire.

Steve took a sip of the slushee, looking over at you. “It’s cold.”

“Yeah, it’s ice.” You laughed. “Do you like it?”

He scrunched his face. “Ooh, brainfreeze.”

“You’ve gotta go slow.”

“Lesson learned.”

The lights dimmed and you grinned, looking back at the screen, missing the longing look in Steve’s eyes, admiring the way your face was lit by the glow. And in those seats, once again, he was that little guy from Brooklyn, watching a movie with his soulmate.

***

Two and a half hours later, the theater lights went up and you had forty-five minutes to kill until the next one started. You wandered down to the food court to get something to eat. 

“So what did he mean there’s no District 12?” Steve asked when you settled down at one of the tables. Shoppers walked all around, laden with paper bags full of goods. It was a kind of busy day, actually, but it was fine. You liked to peoplewatch.

“When the books came out, I had to wait a whole year to get the answer. I think you can handle the next forty minutes.”

“There are books?”

“I have them. You can borrow them. And they are even better than the movies, if you can believe that.”

“They must be pretty damn good, then.” He chuckled. “You want to shop around a bit? We’ve still got some time.”

“Oh absolutely. There’s a Lego store here.”

Steve grinned. “They have a whole store for those?”

The two of you finished eating, threw out your trash, and then walked down the hallway to the Lego Store. Steve browsed some of the boxes. There were a lot of cool things. Buildings he recognized, landmarks, things from movies he hadn’t gotten to watch yet. There were also flowers. Lots of flowers, and Van Gogh’s Starry Night. He could see himself building any number of them with you.

You were over by the minifigure bags, squishing them to feel which character was inside. Steve chuckled, but didn’t question your process. Instead, he wandered over to a rotating display of minifigure keychains. A few caught his eye, but more than anything, you did. That was, a keychain of you, in your suit, that eight-pointed star on your chest. Right next to it was him, shield and all. He chuckled and then grabbed one of each, heading towards the checkout.

By the time you caught up with him, he had already paid.

“What did you get?” you asked through your giggles.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiled, voice soft, eyes softer.

“Alright. Keep your secrets.” You chuckled.

Steve took your hand, walking back towards the theater. You got one last refill for the last two movies, got your cards punched, and headed back inside to finish off the saga.

***

At the end of the night, all the people who had been there for all four movies got a t-shirt, a Mockingjay pin, and a mini poster. Along with the tin and cups they’d given you, you’d say it was definitely worth the ticket price. You and Steve walked out to the car together and sat in the seats for a while before either of you spoke.

“Thanks for coming today, Steve.”

“Oh, any time, (Y/N). We should do it again sometime.”

“I’ll let you know if I catch wind of a Star Wars marathon.”

He grinned. “Oh please do. I’d love to see those on the big screen.”

He pulled out of the parking spot and drove off the lot. By the time you got back, almost everyone was asleep. Almost. Bucky was on the couch, watching something, volume on low. He looked up when the two of you came in the door.

“Fun time?” He asked.

“Oh, very.” You laughed kicking off your boots and setting them in your slot on the shoe shelf.

Steve plucked your keys off of your hook and, very efficiently, added his top secret Lego purchase to yours, the keychain of himself. 

“Oh my God.” You giggled, looking at it. “This is great.”

“We match.” He said, holding up his own keys, which already had the keychain of you on them.

Your heart just about melted. “We sure do. God, you’re giving my soulmate some awfully big shoes to fill, Steve.”

“Well,” he smiled, and suddenly, he was that little guy from Brooklyn again, at your height, in awe of the woman the universe had plopped directly onto his front porch. “I’m sure he’ll grow into them.”

Mr. Perfectly Fine

You had training early, almost all hands on deck. Tony was on a business trip, Thor was on Asgard. But otherwise, everyone was accounted for. Clint’s new recruit, Kate, seemed nice. She was twenty-three, fresh out of college, and really did have quite a shot. She might shape up to be a pretty good Hawkeye after all.

Scott and Hope were there as well. Hope was extremely skilled. You could tell she’d practiced for a while, knew her suit and the Pym Particles inside and out. And Scott was also there. He was nice, there was no question about that, but you could tell he still had a lot to learn about the crazy world he’d stepped into. Still, it was nice to have them around regardless.

Tony hadn’t officially inducted them to the team, and there had been no party announcing such a thing. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was waiting for someone. One more member, perhaps, before making it official.

You had been in…something of a mood since your little outing with Steve. It had been a blast, sure, but it had also been a reminder: Steve had a soulmate, in the past tense. There was a name on his wrist. And your bare wrist meant that it wasn’t you. You had a soulmate out there somewhere, human or super, whether you wanted them or not.

Steve was perfect for you. But you couldn’t have him.

And god, did it hurt.

You trained hard, hitting the punching bag that occupied what was usually Steve’s corner. He was there a lot, blowing off steam. Now you got it; it felt good to hit something. You spun, kicking the bag.

“You’re unbalanced.” Bucky piped up, walking over.

You looked up at him, watching his movements, but he didn’t mean any harm. Obviously he didn’t. He’d passed his mind-control test with flying colors. He was a free man now, and he was a lot lighter because of it.

“Am I?”

“You’ve gotta shift your weight a little, really plant that other leg.” He instructed, adjusting your body, hands gentle but firm. You could feel Steve’s eyes on you from across the room, but he didn’t come over. “Otherwise they’re gonna push you right over.”

“Well thanks. I appreciate it.” You said, giving the tip a try. “I haven’t done enough hand-to-hand.”

“We’ll get ya there. I’m surprised Steve hasn’t been working on it with you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Things have been weird since the Hunger Games.”

“I noticed.” Bucky chuckled. “I’ll talk to him. See what’s going on in that head of his.”

“It’s not his fault. I’ve been the weird one.”

“Oh. Need to talk about it?”

“No, I just…I need to work through some stuff.”

Working through stuff meant that after training, you went straight to your room, closed the door, and started listening to your angst playlist, spread like a starfish across your king-sized mattress. And that was how Nat found you almost an hour later.

“Knock-knock, I’m coming in.” She said, opening the door. “Hey. Why are you listening to Songs for Sad Bitches in here?”

“What? How’d you—?”

“Your playlist name is on the screen out here when you play stuff on the built-in speakers.”

“Embarrassing.”

“Happens to the best of us.” She shrugged, closing the door behind her and sitting on the bed. “So, why are we sad bitches today?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“You can’t talk about it, or you can’t talk about it here?”

“The second of those options, yeah.”

She dangled your keys from her hand, the little tiny Captain America taunting you. “Thought so. Let’s get out of here. Kate hasn’t been to the mall yet and she needs to buy some more clothes.”

“Alright. I could go for some mall pretzels.”

So, for the second time in a week, you piled into a car and headed off towards the mall. This time, however, you were with your friends, Wanda, Nat, and Kate, not your unattainable work crush.

Wanda loved the mall. Seeing her that happy almost made your heartache go away. The four of you shopped around. You picked out a few new tops, some accessories, a cute bag, and it was a nice distraction until you passed the Lego Store. You got some pretzel bites and hunkered down in the food court with the others.

“Alright. Spill.” Nat urged.

Wanda offered a sad little smile and Kate looked up, waiting to see where this was heading. She was new to the team, which meant she was new to the drama, too.

“I don’t know, just…going out with Steve…”

“What, you don’t like him?” Nat asked, prodding.

“The opposite.”

“Then why are you all torn up about it?”

“Because I can’t have him.” You said, pushing a pretzel bite around in the cup of cheese. “He has a soulmate.”

“Had. In the forties.”

“Right, but…I turn twenty-five in what, like four months now? And then I get whoever and…I need to let him go before I get hurt, but I can’t.” You sighed. “Or before I hurt him, leading him on just to run off into the sunset with someone else…I just feel like shit about the whole situation.”

Natasha sat there with the perfect poker face, giving a sly little smile. “It’s gonna be fine. I promise. And if not, you’ve got us here to catch you.”

“What she said.” Kate agreed.

“It will be fine, (Y/N).” Wanda promised, patting your hand. “My birthday is first. Let me be the stressed one.” She let out an incredulous laugh. “I have a crush on an android.”

“Hey, if any robot has a soul, it’s gotta be Vision.” You said, eyes soft. “Obviously, he doesn’t have a mark, but, if your wrist has his name…”

“That would be enough for both of us.” Wanda agreed, nodding. “It’s weird. I know…I know he’s the one but I still have to wait. I wish if you figured it out early, the universe would just let you have it.”

Natasha looked to the rest of you, soaking in silence for a moment before taking off the cuff she wore around her wrist. “Alright, it’s been a secret long enough.”

“Woah, Nat…” You gave her a moment to back out, but she held up her wrist, letting the rest of you read the name on her wrist. Bucky. Her soulmate was Bucky. It…made a lot of sense, actually. The way he looked at her during training, the way she kept herself so guarded around him. “Does he know?”

“Unclear.” Natasha shrugged. “I, uh…Steve said he wasn’t sure. And Bucky’s memories are a little fuzzy. The Red Room tried to get rid of our marks. Said they made us liabilities. When I got out, they hadn’t found a way to do it yet. It showed up a few years after that.”

“Is that like…still around?” Kate asked. “The Red Room?”

“Unfortunately.”

The word sat on the table for a few long moments before you said, “What if we took it down?”

Something sparked in Natasha’s eyes and she met your gaze. “Elaborate.”

“I’m serious. The four of us,” you thought for a moment and then it clicked, “Hope.”

“Maria.” Natasha said, putting the pieces together herself. “I mean, that’s really all we’d need. Plus a location and a plan.”

“Oh my god, are we going on a mission?” Kate asked, lighting up at the prospect of her very first real mission.

Nat grinned. “Yeah, I think we are.”

I Can See You

Steve caught wind of Operation: Red Room before you’d so much as suited up. Of course he didn’t think it was a good idea. After your accident, he still saw you as fragile. You were fine. Your ribs were fine. They’d healed better than even Bruce had expected them to. Still, that look in his eyes said otherwise.

“I’m just not sure this is something you should be doing on your own.”

“We can’t bring you. We can’t bring Bucky. It’d be handing them two supersoldiers on a silver platter.”

“So you’re just gonna waltz in there instead?”

“Yep.” You replied, lighting a little forcefield around your fist and holding it up as evidence. “I can handle myself, remember?”

His eyes softened. “I know that.”

“Then why are you still fighting me on this? Do you seriously think Natasha would let anything happen to me? Do you think Wanda would?”

“What if they have something that disables your powers? Both of your powers.”

“If they did, they’d have used it already.”

He sighed, muscled arms crossed, pink lips pressed into a pout. “(Y/N)...”

“You’re not talking me out of this.” Not even with those pretty blues, you sneaky bastard. “Besides, it was my idea. I’m not leaving the girls hanging.”

His eyes widened. “It was your idea?”

“Well, it was a group effort, but I’m the one that put it into words, yeah.” You shrugged. “If you didn’t think I could handle being an Avenger, why did you recruit me?”

“I never said that.” His jaw clenched and he shook his head. “I just…I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then trust me to do this.” You told him, resting a hand on his chest. “And trust me to come back to you.”

He met your eyes, melting at your touch before relenting, “Okay. But be careful, alright? Promise me.”

“I promise. I always am. You guys should be here to hold down the fort anyway, in case they retaliate.”

He nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be here.”

You walked down to the locker rooms and suited up, making sure everything was tugged tight, belt equipped with both real guns and stun guns. Natasha had told the rest of you there was brainwashing afoot with the Widows that were still in the Red Room. If you could help it, the goal was to get them out without hurting them. That was where Wanda came in. Her specialty.

You all loaded up into the jet, Maria Hill joining you as your getaway pilot. You hadn’t gotten the chance to work with her yet, so you were excited to. You rehashed the plan on the way. The Red Room was housed in a floating base, which was why it was so untraceable; it was always moving. 

You, Kate, and Wanda were on Widow duty. Wanda would dispel their brainwashing, and you and Kate would deal with the physical cells and deal with any guards standing in your way. Once the brainwashing was handled, Wanda would go with Nat to kill Dreykov himself, the man in charge who had escaped countless assassination attempts. This time, she wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Hope was going to shrink down and destroy the place from the inside, and once everyone was out and safe, Maria would fly you all to safety.

Ideally, anyway.

Steve saw you off, standing in the driveway as you flew off.

“Natasha wasn’t kidding. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” Maria chuckled.

“You could say that.”

At the moment, the Red Room was hovering over a suburb in Maine, nearing the Canadian border. Any closer and it would become an international incident. It had to be now. Maria cloaked the jet as it approached, hiding it from onlookers, obviously, but also, hopefully, from the Red Room itself. Though, their sensors were very advanced so there was no way of knowing until you got closer. That put you on edge.

So, instead, you turned to Kate. “First mission today. You ready?”

“Oh hell yeah. I’ve been waiting for this.” Kate nodded. She slung her quiver over her shoulder. “What was yours?”

“The local county fair.” You chuckled. “Though, I guess if you count my first encounter with a bad guy, it was at the mall, guy with a flamethrower and a dream. He is in jail now.”

“That is typically what happens when you dream of arson.” Natasha said, grinning. “Thank you all. For this. For coming.”

“We’ve got you, Nat. They did some pretty awful shit to you. Time to make them pay for it.”

“Speaking of, ready up, ladies. We are two minutes out.”

Power crackled in your fingertips. You were ready to go. Well, as ready as you could be.

Maria pulled up to the docking bay and the five of you got out. Hope lowered her helmet visor, saluted, and then shrunk, flying off into the vents. The other four set off in a linear path, up the winding hallways towards where they kept the Widows.

The hall was bathed in red light, dim. It set you on edge. Natasha led the way, motioning the rest of you on. You noticed as you approached each camera, it flicked off, the heads of them tilting down.

Oh right, Hope. Awesome.

You approached a series of rooms, doors all identical. They slid open when you approached, and sure enough, two dozen women came charging at you all at once, dressed in identical athleisure. Wanda waved her hands, red mist cascading down the hall, their eyes filling. It took a moment, but they all stopped, looking around at each other for some idea of what was going on.

“Natasha?” One of the voices in the crowd said, a blonde girl with wide eyes. “You came?”

Natasha nodded, smiling. “Of course I did.”

“You’re the Avengers.” The girl said, looking at the rest of you. “You’re really here.”

“Some of us. Come on, we’ve got a ship waiting.” You told her.

The girl looked at you and then back at Natasha.

“Go with her.” Natasha instructed. “I’ll be back in like five minutes. Tops.”

“What’s your name?” Kate asked, starting to lead the others back to the ship.

“I’m Yelena. Natasha’s sister.”

As you led them back down the hall, armored guards rounded the corner. You made forcefields at their feet, tripping them up. Kate shot arrows down the barrels of their weapons, causing a few small explosions. The Widows fought with you, taking out anyone that approached. Soon enough, you got to the docking bay, which exploded as soon as you approached.

You put up a shield between the rest of you and the explosion, blocking the girls from the flying debris. Okay, that put a wrench in things a little bit.

“What are we gonna do?” Kate asked, looking to you, the reflection of the flames shimmering against her skin.

“I’ve got an idea.” You said, approaching the opening carefully, wind whipping all around. Maria was still piloting the jet, doing her best to get close to the massive hole.

You made a platform with your power, curving it up at the edges, like a giant spoon. Slowly, you slid it across the gap to the jet. Maria got the hint, turning it around and opening the ramp. You made another platform and two of the Widows hopped in without hesitation. Slowly, you started the process of feeding them all across, two by two until everyone was in the jet. Everyone except you.

“Hey.” Hope said, landing and returning to full size, out of breath. “What did I miss?”

“Not too much.”

“Want a lift?”

“Why not?” You shrugged. Hope took your hand, flying you across the gap and into the ship. That just left Wanda and Nat unaccounted for.

You watched anxiously, waiting, waiting, waiting. Nothing.

“Hope, how long before this thing blows?”

“A few minutes.”

“Fuck.” You shook your head. You pressed a finger to your earpiece. “Nat, Wanda, do you copy?”

Radio silence.

“(Y/N), there they are.” Kate pointed. She really did have eagle eyes.

“I’ll get them.” Hope offered until an enemy ship opened fire.

“I’ve got it.” You said, channeling something deeper. Instead of making a bubble, you formed a tunnel of shimmering blue energy from the platform they were standing on to the back of the jet. “Hold her steady, Maria!”

“As steady as I can.”

A few explosions started at the back of the base, setting off a chain reaction. The two of them ran through the tunnel, its energy shielding them from the fire, the debris, and the rain of bullets. Wanda sped them along, until they were safe and sound, in the jet again.

Maria closed up the door as more explosions went off. You lowered your hands, letting the energy dispel. She flew off to a safe distance. The rest of you watched in awe as the Red Room fell, crumbling to bits, to ashes and ruin.

Yelena hugged Natasha, thanking her. Natasha apologized for not coming sooner. And the rest of the Widows were able to rest, breathing free for the first time in years.

***

The first stop on the docket was a SHIELD base in New York to drop off the majority of the Widows. SHIELD had a plan in place to get them back into society, integrated, rehabilitated, whatever they needed.

The second stop, of course, was Taco Bell, for refreshments.

The third stop was home, where Steve was waiting at the dinner table, chin resting against his folded hands, Bucky sitting across from him. He whipped around at the sound of the door opening. You, Kate, Wanda, Natasha, Hope, and Yelena were talking and laughing, laden with bags of fast food.

His eyes fell on yours first and it was like time stopped.

“How did it go?”

“Good. I got you a Baja Blast.” You said, setting the large cup of the teal drink in front of him.

He stared at it for a long moment before looking back up at you. “You…”

“I’m alright, Steve. We all are. And, uh, we have a new teammate.”

He finally spotted Yelena in the mix. “Oh?”

“Natasha has a sister.” You shrugged, sitting down and unpacking your order. “Apparently.”

Speaking of whom, Natasha walked up to Bucky, looked him in the eye, and said, “Barnes. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, following her into another room.

“Wonder what that’s about.” Steve murmured, sticking a straw into the drink he kept staring at like it was a potion you’d plucked from a fantasy realm. You supposed teal was kind of an odd color for a drink…

You smirked. “I have some idea.”

“She told you?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It makes a lot of sense. The way he looks at her…”

He nodded. “Like something out of a movie.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You sighed and then shook out of it, motioning to the drink. “Alright, let me know what you think.”

He took a first sip, holding it in his mouth for a second before swallowing. The smile on his face grew. “It’s sweet.”

“Too sweet?”

“A little.” He chuckled, going in for another sip. “No, maybe…maybe I do like it.”

“Uh-huh. Think about it.” You laughed.

Yelena sat down next to you. “Is this seat taken? I’m starving.”

“Have at it.”

“Alright, well, you girls have fun. I’m headed to bed.” He held up his cup. “Thanks for the drink. Glad you’re home safe.”

“Night, Steve.”

Yelena looked at you, wonder in her eyes. As soon as he was out of earshot, she said, “Oooh, tell me everything.”

You chuckled. “Where do I even start?”

Champagne Problems

Two weeks later, you got dressed for Wanda’s twenty-fifth birthday outing. It would be just the girls, headed to a club nearby. Wanda would turn twenty-five just after midnight and she didn’t want to be in the same building with Vision if she was going to get her heart broken. It wasn’t a bad plan, all things considered.

You were wearing a black dress, knee-length, form-fitting, paired with a dark red lip, and of course, the star necklace Steve had gotten for you all those months ago. You let your fingers linger on it in your reflection before throwing on your heels and walking out to the living room to wait for the others.

Steve was on the couch, watching the Muppets Movie.

“See? I wasn’t lying about Gonzo.”

“You weren’t.” He laughed.  He opened his mouth to make a quip, but it died on his tongue when he got a good look at you, eyes softening. “You got a date tonight? You’re all dolled up.”

“Huh? No.” You laughed. “It’s girls’ night.”

“Didn’t you just have girls’ night? I believe it involved several explosives.”

“Right, well, Wanda turns twenty-five just after midnight, so we’re going out again. This time hopefully with less explosions.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Well, ya look great.”

You blushed. “Thanks.”

“You hear about Nat and Buck?”

“It’s official.” You grinned. “I’m happy for them.”

“Me too. They’ve both been through so much. They deserve to be happy.”

“So do you, Steve.”

He tilted his head, giving you that sad smile. “I am. Promise.”

The other girls came into the living room before you had the chance to respond. Nat was hand-in-hand with Bucky, who kissed her on the cheek before releasing her and joining Steve on the couch, grinning like he’d won the lottery. In a way, he had.

“Let’s get a move on, birthday girl.” Natasha said, slinging an arm around Wanda’s shoulders. “The night is young.”

She looked back longingly where Vision was hovering in the corner of the room. “Be back soon.”

“Text me when you find out.” He said.

“I will.” She promised, eyes brimming with tears.

You took her hand in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. She squeezed it back, meeting your eyes and offering a smile.

The five of you piled into the car. Hope wasn’t coming because she was in San Francisco for the weekend, but Yelena was. She seemed determined to experience all the life she’d missed out on thus far. You couldn’t blame her in the slightest.

The club was lively, music pulsing loudly. There were lots of birthdays being celebrated, it turned out, announced by party hats, birthday crowns and sashes, and the periodic cheers of groups of people, yelling out in excitement when their friends learned who their lives were promised to. It was kind of magical.

You ordered a drink, downing it quickly and surrendering to the fuzzy feeling at the edges of your mind. You were pretty sure the last time you’d been drunk was your induction to the team. You remembered that night with Steve, how he looked at you, how it felt. And then you ordered a second drink, dancing to the music with the girls, trying to forget your worries, even if only for the night.

A guy approached you, a look in his eye. He eyed up your bare wrist. “No soulmate?”

“Not yet. A few months too early for that.”

“Then would you mind if I swept you off your feet for the night?”

“Sorry, I…I’m here for my friend. It’s her twenty-fifth.”

He scoffed, looking you up and down before stalking off towards his next victim. “Alright. Your loss.”

“Asshole.” Yelena rolled her eyes, taking your hands and spinning you around on the dance floor. You let her, dancing along. “I do not blame you, (Y/N). If I were you, I wouldn’t settle either. Not for that.”

You laughed. “Yeah, not my thing.”

“You’ve never…?”

“Well, a little. In high school, we used to have parties where we ‘practiced’ for our soulmates. It never got any further than a little spin the bottle, though.” You confessed.

“Ah, see, I’ve had practice. But it never meant anything. Red Room, bleh.” Yelena shrugged. “I am ready for something real.”

“How long you got left?”

“Another year.”

“I’ve got three and a half months.”

“So I’ve heard. I bet you are excited, being so close to it.”

“Excited, nervous.” You laughed, shrugging. “I kinda just want to rip the Band-Aid off, get it over with.”

“I’m sure.” She motioned Kate over and she joined the two of you, dancing to the beat. “Kate Bishop, how long do you have left?”

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Ah, well, then you have lots of time to party.” Yelena grinned, spinning her around. “We should really do this more often.”

You chuckled. Yelena had only been part of your little family for a few weeks, but already you could tell she was going to be a handful in the best way.

Eventually, you wandered back over to Wanda, who was standing in the corner of the room, nursing a single glass of Vodka Cran.

“Hey, birthday girl. You doing okay?” You asked.

She nodded, irises ringed with red, as they often were when she was stressed. She blinked a few times, forcing them back to hazel. “Doing great.”

“Wanda, whoever they are, they’re so lucky to have someone like you.” You took her hand. “Now let’s go dance and forget about it for the next hour.”

She smiled. “Lead the way.”

***

In what seemed like no time at all, midnight came. Natasha ordered a bottle of champagne and each of you got a glass. Wanda sat on a barstool, staring at her wrist. From right next to her, you had a pretty good view, watching with a racing heart as a string of letters appeared, darkening into existence.

The Vision.

She burst into tears, hitting the call button on her phone. He picked up on the first ring.

“It’s you, Vis! I knew it was you!”

The rest of you gathered your things, eager to reunite them as soon as you could. Your thoughts were racing, though. You’d never really thought of it before, but…your soulmate could be someone you already knew. Someone you were already in love with.

Someone who was already in love with you.

Maybe there was some hope after all…

The Origin

Only weeks after your night in the club, you found yourself in yet another bar. This time, it wasn’t for fun, though. You, Sam, Nat, Bucky, and Steve were undercover in a quaint little tavern in Alaska. A quaint little tavern that happened to be a front for Hydra, as it were. But that didn’t mean that everyone there was Hydra, just definitely the bar tender and the security guards that kept eyeing you up. Probably a handful of the patrons, too.

In addition to that, so were the flannel-clad guys at the bar.

“Hey, little lady.” One wandered up to you, bumping your elbows. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’m all set with this one, thanks.” You said, taking a long sip from your drink.

“Aww, come on, just one more?” The guy on your other side egged on. “Pretty girl like you deserves to have a little fun.”

The guys around them started getting riled up, trying to convince you to have another drink. Never had you been so glad to hear Steve’s voice.

“Sorry fellas, she’s taken. Come on, sweetheart.” You felt his hand on your shoulder and let him pull you away from the fray, back to his little corner. He had been growing out a bit of a beard for this. God, did it suit him. He rested his hands on your waist, face approaching your own, nose nestled beside your cheek. “You see anything?”

“Bartender has a gun under the counter. Intense code-protected lock on the door in the backroom.” You told him, masking your words with a smile, nuzzling your nose against his.

“I’ll get to work on the door.” Bucky said over the coms. “Whatever you’re doing is working. Those guys have lost all interest.”

“Perfect.” You chuckled. “Thanks for defending my honor.”

Steve smiled and it was breathtaking, the way his eyes sparkled in the warm light. “Anytime.”

You really couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol; there hadn’t even been any. It was a virgin drink. Your arm wound around his neck, pulling him in so you could kiss his cheek. His arms wrapped tight around you and he buried his face in your neck to hide his rosy cheeks, laughing.

Once again, that line between your cover and your feelings began to blur.

“Alright, I’m in.” Bucky said. “Feel free to join us whenever.”

“Coming.” Steve murmured, a hand moving the hair out of your eyes. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead, sending your heart into a frenzy before taking your hand and leading you to the backroom, where Bucky and the others were waiting.

“You were born for undercover work, (Y/N).” Natasha said, giving you a smirk and a friendly nudge.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.” You laughed. “It’s kind of fun, though.”

The five of you walked down the tunnel. When you finally reached the main room, it was kind of dark. You lit your fist with blue energy, using it to find a lightswitch. There were several computers that flashed to life, a wall of weapons, and also, a wall of screens. There was a little electrified cell, but it was empty. No captives, as far as you could see.

You started looking around while Natasha backed up files to a hard drive. Bucky watched the entrances. Sam looked over the weapons, taking notes of the ones that were out of the ordinary. Steve stared at the screens, mesmerized by…something.

“Um, (Y/N)?” He asked, motioning you over.

You looked up at the images. They were all of you. Pictures of you in the field, diagrams of your anatomy, hospital records, your birth certificate. There were illustrations of you, and a few fields marked as unfulfilled: blood sample, soulmate information, DNA.

Beneath it was written Planet of Origin: Illustria

“What the actual fuck.” You said, voice flat, staring at the word. You’d never heard it before. Not even with the recent discoveries about space and the wider universe. Thor, your only connection to space, had never mentioned it. Yet, for some reason, Hydra had reason to believe you were connected to it.

“Company.” Bucky announced, readying his gun as a group of Hydra agents stormed down the tunnel. 

A section of the wall slid open and a scientist-looking man stepped into the space. Steve threw his shield, bouncing it off of three surfaces before it came back to him. The man made a run for it, but you lit your fists and ran after him. Steve followed after.

Once you were both through, the wall slid shut. On the other side, you could still hear the sounds of the fight. They needed you. But you needed answers. It was an impossible choice, made easier when he started talking.

“Ah, the Girl from Space and the Man Out of Time. How nice to have you both here in one place.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You said, fists clenched, eyes glazed over with raw power, glowing like Wanda’s did.

He laughed. “You didn’t know? Your commerades didn’t tell you? Surely they must have seen the suppressor in your neck when they were running all those tests.”

Your world came crashing down. “The what?”

“Your parents paid us to put it there. Paid SHIELD, at least, but, we’ve been one in the same for a long time. Didn’t know how to handle their little alien girl, especially at her full power, on a planet that wasn’t their own. They should have known you’d outgrow it eventually.” He tsked. “Of course, I could always take it out for you.”

“You touch her, you die.” Steve said, voice as smooth as steel. It sent a chill down your spine. “I’m warning you.”

It made sense. It was like a switch had been flipped when you were in college, your powers coming from seemingly nowhere. They’d been suppressed all your life, but finally, the suppressor stopped working. You hadn’t even known it was there. Maybe that was why you’d been stopped at so many airports.

“Not to worry Captain, I was on my way out of here anyway.” He raised his hands and started walking towards an exit tunnel.

You raised yours, making a cuff of energy around his wrist, holding him in place.

“No, you get to answer to SHIELD.” You told him. “And then you get to answer to me.”

Steve used his shield to knock the guy out with one quick, precise throw. The door behind the two of you slid open, Natasha pushing it open. There were downed Hydra agents all over the floor behind her.

“Having a party without us?”

“Something like that.” You mumbled, heart still racing.

“I got the files, (Y/N).” She said, playful demeanor falling immediately. “We’ll figure it out.”

Steve lugged the scientist over his shoulders, handing him off to the SHIELD agents who had come to help, one of whom happened to be one of the guys who was hitting on you at the bar. Go figure. Bucky and Sam joined the three of you. Sam put a hand on your shoulder and offered a supportive smile.

You still felt numb.

***

You got back to the safehouse and the snow outside doubled, coming down in droves, thick snowflakes and heavy winds. It was safe to say you would not be making it back to the Compound tonight.

You changed out of your bulletproof gear and into a tank top and sweats, running a hand through your hair. You met your eyes in the reflection, noticing how they flickered blue. In the other room, you could hear the video call finally go through with Tony and Bruce, who were back home.

“Oh don’t give me that look, Rogers.”

“Well, can you blame me?”

“What, like you’ve never kept a secret ever in your life, give me a break!”

“About her life, Tony!”

“I’ll get her.” You heard Natasha tell him, and then heard her footsteps approaching the bathroom door. She knocked. “Hey, they’re on. I made you some cocoa.”

You opened the door, letting out a sigh and nodding. “Thanks, Nat.”

She smiled, patting your shoulder and leading you out to the couch. Tony and Bruce were sitting in the living room on the screen. Steve had been pacing, obviously, given his stance and the fact that he was still standing.

You sat down, making eye contact with each of them, lips pressed into a flat line. Your heart raced, chest aching, stomach on fire from the adrenaline of it all. “So?”

Tony sighed. “You’re an alien.”

“Half.” Bruce amended. “On your mother’s side. She’s from a planet called Illustria.”

“Uh-huh, yeah. I got that part. How long have you known?”

Bruce looked at Tony, hoping he’d deliver that part of the news. He did. “I’ve known since you were recruited. Fury did a background check. You were already on the files.”

“What about the suppressor?”

“We didn’t know what it was. We didn’t know what taking it out would do to you.” Bruce admitted. “We thought you knew it was there.”

“I want it out.” You said with certainty. “I want it out as soon as we get home.”

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I want to know who I am. That starts with knowing what I’m actually capable of.” You sighed. “And call Thor. I have questions I need answered. His alien friends might know.”

“Anything else?” Tony asked.

“Who else knew.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“Just me and Fury,” he said, but you couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

“And Hydra.” You snapped. “What, are you afraid of me? Had to keep a lid on my powers because you’re so fucking obsessed with control?”

Tony scoffed. Clearly, you’d struck a nerve. “That’s not it.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how you would take it.”

“Okay well, I think I would have been okay hearing it from a friend, in a place I felt safe. I had to hear about it from Hydra. They had a fucking cell with my name on it.” You said, trembling as you remembered it, tucked away in the corner there. That was the only explanation for it, really. And then something else clicked, too. “That…that day when Steve got tranq’ed. They weren’t trying to hit him, they were trying to hit me. He jumped in the way. They’ve…been trying to take me this entire time.”

“Oh my god, Tony…” Natasha said, voice quiet.

“Get those files to me, Nat. I’ll take a look. See if they have anything on the suppressor so I can take it out when you get back.” Bruce said, eyes soft. “And I’m sorry, for the record.”

“It’s not you I’m mad at.”

“Kid, please don’t—”

You cut Tony off with a click of the remote, hanging up the call. You let out a shaking sigh, setting the remote down. Your fingers were trembling. You took a few breaths, lungs heaving. You wanted to scream. You needed to let it out.

Everyone else on the team knew why they were there. Every other person in your life knew what made them special. Wanda’s power came from the Mind Stone, Steve’s came from the Serum, Tony’s came from his massive fucking ego. They all got the privilege of their origin story.

All of them except for you.

You needed to call your parents, if you even could. They’d told you they were moving to Florida. Now you wondered if they’d moved off the planet.

“You gonna be okay?” Sam asked, eyes trailing you as you paced through the room towards the door.

“Nope.” You walked out to the other den, burying your face in your arms, sobbing for a few minutes until you got it all out, or most of it anyway. Eight months. Eight fucking months he’d known you and didn’t think to tell you.

The chip in your shoulder burned.

You began to seriously wonder if anyone else had known. Bruce had run all those tests, surely he had seen something. He’d told you there were abnormalities, but he’d assumed they were from your powers, not the cause of them.

Steve crossed your mind briefly, but you shot that down pretty quick. He, of all people, would never keep a secret like that from you. You knew him well enough to know that.

Aside from that, the only real suspect you had was Vision. He had been JARVIS once, surely he still had some of that database in his mind. You’d give him the benefit of the doubt. For now.

“Hey.” Even before you looked up, you could tell Steve would be leaning in the doorway, that lovelorn look on his face. You were right, obviously.

Tears welled in your eyes. “Steve.”

He crossed the room, collecting you in his arms, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back. You surrendered to him, crying into the fabric of his crewneck, face tucked into the crook of his neck. One of his hands cradled your head, smoothing over your hair comfortingly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He rumbled, voice deep and soothing. “I would have told you.”

“I know you would.” You sniffled, gripping him like a lifeline, your anchor in the storm. You pulled away to meet his eyes. “I feel so stupid for crying about it.”

He shook his head. “It’s not stupid. I would, too.”

“Like it’s fine. Aliens are cool. T-Thor is cool.” You sniffled again, more tears running down your cheeks. “I’m fine with being one, I just…”

“You’re still (Y/N).” He asserted, a gentle thumb wiping your tears away. “You’ve always been able to do these amazing, beautiful things. Now we know why. And maybe there’ll be even more things you can do with that thing out of your neck.”

“Yeah…” You nodded. You took a deep breath. “I’m really glad you’re here, Steve. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.”

He pulled you back into his arms to hide the look on his face. “I’ve got you. Always. We’ll figure it out.”

***

Hours later, you were curled up on the couch, asleep. Despite the fireplace raging with fresh-chopped wood, you were still shivering, pulling the blankets around yourself as tight as you could.

Steve watched you from the dining table, forlorn. Natasha nudged him, motioning towards you. He shook his head. He couldn’t. Right? What, take advantage of you in your vulnerable state?

Bucky seemed to agree with Nat, grinning into his mug of coffee. Of course they agreed. They were soulmates, after all. Just like you and Steve. 

The mark on his wrist seemed to thrum when he thought about it.

Relenting, Steve got up off of his seat, walked towards the fireplace and adjusted the logs, adding another small one for good measure. He looked back at the others, who were silently, but aggressively, encouraging him to go over to you. Sighing, he did.

He knelt down in front of you, clearing his throat, which caused you to jolt awake.

“Is everything okay? Are we under attack?”

Steve chuckled. “No, uh, we’re all good. Are you cold? You’re shivering.”

“Kind of, yeah.” You admitted. “I’ll be okay, though, I promise. I’ve always been kind of cold. Must be an alien thing…”

“Do you…want some company?” He asked, unsure of how to word it. “I…run warm.”

“Do you mind?” You asked, sitting up a little and raising the blankets you were under.

His heart raced. “Here, um…” He wiggled in underneath you, letting you lead as the two of you settled.

“God, you do run warm.” You hummed, all but collapsing against him, a hand flat against his chest while you adjusted.

“I didn’t always.” He said, voice sincere. “Buck and I used to have to share a bed in the winter. It was brutal.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Yeah, he snores.” Steve joked, earning a laugh.

“Oh I know. I can hear him three doors down back home.”

“And I can hear you from the other room!” Bucky called, sending you and Steve into a fit of giggles, like kids at a sleepover. “It’s a small cabin!”

You heard him and Sam devolve into a bickering match about the truth of whether or not Bucky actually snored that loud.

You looked up at Steve, asking “is it okay if I put my arm here?” while carefully draping an arm across him.

“Yeah, of course. Get comfortable.” He nodded, leaning against the pillows and pulling the blanket up around your shoulders.

You rested your head on his firm chest, listening to the way his heart was racing. Cute.

“We could, uh, put on some music if you want.” Steve suggested. “I’ve still got that playlist on my phone.”

“Which one’s your favorite?” You asked, voice soft, curious.

“Timeless.”

“I thought it would be.” You smiled, meeting his eyes, which sparkled in the light of the fire. “You’re so timeless, Steve Rogers.”

He grinned. “You think so? You don’t think I’m a fossil like everyone else?” he said, quoting Natasha and Tony and many others who equated him to some dinosaur because of his accident.

“Not even close.” You shook your head and sighed. “This might be the wrong thing to say, but…I’m really glad you’re here. Your life could have looked a lot different, but I’m really glad you ended up in mine.”

It took every ounce of his being to hold in his tears when you said it. If he could have confessed then and there, he would have. He would have kissed you square on the lips, told you he loved you, that he always had, that you weren’t some accident, you were his destiny. Always had been.

Instead, he had to settle for, “I’m getting used to it, but I am, too. I’m really glad I found you that day, (Y/N).”

“Me too.” You smiled, readjusting your cheek against his chest, letting out a long breath. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night.”

His warmth lulled you to sleep after a long, emotional day. Never had you felt so safe and protected. It was easy to feel that way in the arms of a supersoldier, you supposed, thoughts meandering until there weren’t any left. You were asleep in minutes, breaths slow and long and even.

Once he was absolutely sure you were out, Steve pressed the gentlest kiss to your forehead, grateful beyond words to have you in his arms again, grateful you were safe, grateful you were his.

Even if you didn’t know it yet.

***

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the sliver of a gap in the curtains, right into your eyes. You blinked a few times, trying to figure out why the mattress was moving. And then you remembered. Steve.

The supersoldier was still asleep, breaths long and slow, those thick, gorgeous eyelashes resting against his sharp cheekbones, lips impossibly pink. His muscled arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other settled on the couch.

Your eyes wandered to the band on his wrist. It was out of place slightly, the edge almost crooked enough to read the letters etched onto his skin. Almost.

There was a part of you that was tempted to look. To nudge it aside the tiniest bit, say it was an accident, and finally know who it was that had been holding his heart in their hands for the last seventy or so years.

But you couldn’t do that to him. He trusted you enough to hold you while he slept, while he was the most vulnerable. You respected him too much to do that. So instead, you adjusted slightly, closing your eyes again.

“(Y/N).” Natasha said from the doorway of the kitchen.

“Hmm?” You replied, eyes opening again.

She eyed up the two of you, grinning. “Cute.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Got those files sent to Bruce. He doesn’t think it’ll be a problem getting that thing out of you. Won’t even have to put you under.”

“Cool.” You nodded. “Is it…like right between my neck and my shoulder? On the right side?”

“That’s where it is on the diagrams, yeah.”

“Okay. Thought so. I get pain there sometimes.”

“During training?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think it was anything serious. Thought it was like a pulled muscle or a pinched nerve or something.”

“You never said anything.” Steve murmured, blinking awake. “You were in pain that whole time?”

“No. It comes and goes. Mostly when I try out new stuff.” You said, still planted on his chest, looking up at him.

He smiled. “Morning.”

“Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Really well, actually. How did you sleep?”

“Like a fucking rock.” You grinned. “You weren’t kidding about running warm. Thanks for sharing.”

“Anytime.”

“Let’s get a move on, team.” Sam said, walking out from the bedrooms down the hall, Bucky not far behind him, looking tired.

You reluctantly left the warmth of your shared cocoon, sitting up and stretching, brushing your fingers through your tangled hair. “Alright, let’s go get this thing out of me.”

Show Yourself

“Alright, so, this might hurt a bit. Are you ready?” Bruce warned. You were laid out on a table on your stomach, a curled pillow beneath your head. It was a bit like a massage, except Bruce had made an incision at the base of your neck where your suppressor was implanted. He’d given you some numbing gel and pain meds, though, so you didn’t feel much.

On the other side of the observation window, Steve was standing with Natasha, his arms crossed, eyes focused. Tony wasn’t allowed even in there, which pissed him off. He’d tried to get on your good side when you’d gotten home and you blew him off completely, which, Steve had to admit, was amusing.

And Tony definitely deserved it.

“I’m good. Go for it.”

Carefully, Bruce used his tools to wiggle it free from your flesh, setting off a chain reaction in your body. The wave of relief you felt was almost enough to put you to sleep, a refreshing, cool sensation rushing from your head to your toes. Power crackled between your fingers, and you could feel your eyes glowing for a moment, despite the fact that you couldn’t see your reflection.

Bruce moved to stitch you up, but your body did the work for him, mending back together on its own before his very eyes. He adjusted his glasses, sure he was seeing things. But no, the wound was healed, just leaving a little dried blood on your skin, which he wiped off with a wet piece of gauze.

“Woahhh.” You murmured, coming out of the trance. You blinked a few times and it felt like waking up from a college nap, the kind you don’t set an alarm for and then come out of in a stupor.

“You feel okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” You nodded. “Are you done? Did you stitch it up?”

“I…didn’t have to.” He murmured, still staring at the spot. He handed you the shirt you’d brought in and you tugged it over your head, staring at your arms, your hands. You didn’t look any different, but it was like every atom in your body was electrified.

It felt right.

Bruce opened the door and Steve and Natasha walked in, watching your every move.

“Wow.” Natasha said, grinning. “You look…”

“The same, but…more you.” Steve met your eyes, offering you his hand. 

You took it, letting him help you stand. Even his touch felt different now. Better. You settled, adjusting. It felt different, like even the gravity itself had changed. It would take some getting used to.

“I need to hit the training room.” You said with an excited grin. “You two are welcome to join me.”

“Can I watch? I want to take notes.” Bruce said. “From the observation booth, of course.”

“Oh yeah, by all means.” You nodded, leading the others down the hallway. A few others tagged along, Yelena, Kate, Wanda, who were all curious to see what you were capable of now, and just how much Tony’s lies had been holding you back. Sam and Bucky were already there and smiled when they saw you coming, Steve and the others in tow.

They cleared out some room, letting you have the space you needed. You stretched and then got to work.

First, you made a few forcefields. They still had that shimmer, like sunlight in a swimming pool, but they were twice as thick as they had been before. Steve couldn’t break them with his super-strength anymore.

You had more control over your waypoints and your portals, which, the more you used them, were becoming two different things. The waypoints, your stars, were a quick zip from point A to point B. Your portals, however, were more like a window that you could open and close, and took on more of a circular shape.

You were stronger, too. Nowhere near as strong as Bucky or Steve, but twice as strong as you’d been before, faster.

And then came the other thing. If you focused hard enough, and focused on the floaty, tingly feeling in your chest, your body started to glow around the edges, and at long last, your feet rose from the floor.

“Oh my god…” You murmured, lifting yourself from the tile ground. At first, it was hard to control, but you quickly figured out how to get from point to point, and how to hover in the middle.

Steve stared up at you as you hovered, fists lit with power, hair floating in the breeze you’d created. It was like watching the birth of a star, powerful and beautiful and otherworldly.

For the first time since 1943, he knew in his soul that he had to paint you, exactly like this. He memorized the moment in his mind, every detail from the streak of sunlight on your chest to the misplaced strand of hair on your forehead, the exact hue of your glowing irises.

“A picture might last longer.” Natasha teased under her breath, watching as you touched down.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Steve replied, already picking out a color palette in his head.

“Holy shit…” You breathed, the glow dissipating as you returned to normal. “What a rush.”

“Welcome to the fly club, kid.” Sam said, patting you on the back.

“Thanks.” You grinned. “You’ll have to give me some pointers sometime.”

“Oh, anytime.” Sam walked over to Steve with you. “You see her up there? She’s like Superman.”

“I saw.” Steve agreed, arms crossed. “I think this calls for celebration, huh?”

“What did you have in mind, Cap?” You asked.

“Baja Blast?” He suggested, earning a laugh and a friendly shove.

“So you did like it?”

“It’s growin’ on me.” Steve admitted, that sly smile spreading. “Come on, my treat.”

“Oh I’m in.” You agreed. “Let me just take these monitors off.”

You turned in Bruce’s software, all of the vital-measuring instruments, cuffs and little sensors hooked to your arms and legs and chest.

“So, give it to me straight, doc. Am I stable?”

“Yeah, everything looks great. Vitals are great, heartrate is fine, if not a little elevated, but I’d assume that’s just from the adrenaline.” Bruce noted, looking at the numbers and charts on the screen in front of him. “If you feel weird, let me know and I can check things over, do some scans, but otherwise, it seems…you’re doing better than you were before, actually.”

“Alright, good to know.” You said, trying not to let his words hurt you. 

It was good news, it really was, but you could have felt this way for eight months, not two hours. You were thinking faster, processing things at better speeds. Hell, it even felt like you were breathing easier. Whatever that thing was that had been inside you, it had been sapping your health for your entire life. And now, you finally knew what it was like to be at a hundred percent instead of eighty.

Fuck Tony.

***

Steve drove the two of you through the nearest Taco Bell drive-thru to get snacks for yourselves and the rest of the team.

You ordered your regular, your Baja Blast, and everything the others had requested, running it on one of the team cards Tony had given you all. On the drive back, Steve had a question you didn’t really expect.

“Where do people shop for art supplies these days?”

“Jo Ann’s or Michael’s. They have a little bit of everything. Fabric, yarn, paint, beads, basically everything you could need. Why, you got a DIY project planned?”

“Something like that, yeah.” He grinned. “I don’t do much shopping, so I didn’t know where to start.”

“We should go sometime. I was running low on yarn.” You said, taking a sip of your Baja Blast.

“Make anything cool lately?”

“I’m working on a sunflower cardigan for Wanda.”

“Oh she’ll love that.”

“Yeah, she’s the one who sent me the pattern.” You chuckled. “It’s gonna look really cute on her.”

The two of you got back a few minutes later, a drove of hungry superheroes descending upon the paper bags you were carrying almost instantly. It was a welcome sight, a full table of laughing people. Your family. You felt a little different now, but nothing had changed. Not really. They still liked you, still smiled at you, joked with you, laughed with you.

So then why had Tony felt the need to hide it for so long?

***

Days later, Steve walked down the paint aisle of the craft store, picking out some brushes, some canvas, paints. He found the perfect one for your eyes, another hue for your forcefields. The amount of time he spent looking at you made it easy.

He smiled to himself. The little guy from Brooklyn would be proud of him, getting back into art beyond the sketches he did from time to time. It reminded him, though, that he needed to swing back to that antique shop and finally pick up the painting that had been waiting for him for so long.

Surely, he could keep it hidden until your big day.

Happiest Place on Earth

Being an Avenger often brought along unexpected adventures and opportunities. Today, that adventure was a theme park. Apparently, Disneyland was putting in a whole section in homage to the Avengers and Tony wanted you all to be there.

And though the two of you weren’t on the best terms at the moment, who were you to fight a free vacation?

You and Wanda helped pick out each others’ outfits for your day off following the grand opening. But today, you were wandering the park in uniform, side by side with Captain America himself, as you walked side by side down the street in the parade.

They’d tried to teach you all to do a little dance as you walked. The only one even attempting it was Scott, who was absolutely thrilled to be there. Supposedly, his daughter Cassie would be there to see him, too. You hadn’t met her yet, but Scott loved her to the moon and back. With him as a dad, she’d have to turn out pretty cool.

“Waypoint,” Steve said, motioning you over to see a little girl dressed not as a princess, but as you, your star shining proudly on her chest.

“Hey there, superstar.” You smiled, giving her a high-five. “You look great!”

“I want to be a hero just like you someday!” She said, her voice impossibly small. Impossibly innocent. It was a cute moment, but you couldn’t help but hope she’d never have to be. That someday, you and the rest of the team would get the world to a place where superheroes weren’t needed, where there was just peace. Where people with powers could simply be like everyone else.

“You already are, hon.” You told her, posing for a picture as her mom held up her phone.

You continued along the parade route and saw a couple. The guy was wearing a Captain America hoodie, the girl was wearing a Waypoint shirt. You wondered if Steve noticed, but didn’t have to ask when you saw his eyes lingering there, his mask all but hiding the faint blush on his cheeks.

A few teenage girls stopped you and you signed their autograph books, throwing something together. Despite your time on the team, there had never really been a time you’d been stopped for them. It was an odd feeling, being famous for something like this.

Steve signed with confidence, though. Sometimes you forgot that before he actually got to go out in the field and make a difference, he’d done a stint as a celebrity, touring the country to sell war bonds.

Someday, you’d bribe him enough to show you the videos, if he hadn’t already burnt all of them first.

“Are you excited for your birthday?” One asked. “I heard your twenty-fifth is coming up.”

“Oh! Yeah! I mean, I guess I’m more anxious than anything. It’s the big one.”

“You’re going to have every twenty-four year old in the country on the edge of their seat waiting to find out if they’re the one.” Another joked. 

You laughed along. “Yeah, I guess it’s coming whether I want it to or not.”

You were near the end of the route, so it wasn’t long after that you were off the hook to walk around a bit, get something to eat.

Steve turned to you, trying to sound casual when he asked, “You don’t want your birthday to come?”

“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged. “I’m not entirely set on the idea of pledging myself to some stranger for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not always a stranger.” Steve said. “Maybe you already know them.”

“That’s true. That would be…I mean, it would be better, sure, but…I’m pretty sure the only person I want it to be already has someone else.” You couldn’t meet his eyes when you said it, afraid of the answer, one way or the other, whether he finally said it outright, or if those pretty blue eyes said it for him.

You couldn’t handle the heartbreak.

“Wait—”

“(Y/N), we have time to hop on Pirates of the Caribbean.” Wanda said, swooping in to save you. She was really good at that. She took your hand and the two of you ran off in the direction of the ride.

Natasha walked up behind Steve, hand in hand with Bucky, who was nibbling on a churro. Obviously, they had heard the exchange.

“Fuck.” Steve muttered, shaking his head. “Well, great.”

“What’s going on, soldier?” Natasha asked.

“She’s gonna be so pissed when she finds out it’s me.” Steve said, voice small, as he watched you walk away. He waited for you to glance back at him. You didn’t.

“What are you talking about? Steve, she’s liked you for months. She listened to Songs for Sad Bitches when she thought she couldn’t have you.” Natasha reasoned. “Feelings like that don’t just go away.”

Bucky chimed, “Are we forgetting the night at the cabin?”

“That was three months ago.” Steve said, staring at his shoes. “I…I’ve been keeping it from her this entire time, hiding it from her, letting her feel like shit and stress herself out over it. I shouldn’t have gotten so close in the first place, but…I just can’t keep myself away from her. She looks at me with those eyes and I just…crumble.”

“I hear ya, pal.” Bucky said, patting his arm. “But you remember the look in her eyes at the bar that night? You remember the things she said to you? That (Y/N) is still a month away. She still has feelings for you. She still loves you, and she’s…she’s even excited to see the little guy.”

“She loved the little guy.” Steve agreed, smiling softly, remembering the look on your face when he’d found you, laying on his porch, the tenderness with which you’d whispered his name. In a world that constantly looked down on him, figuratively and literally, you were the first person aside from Bucky that made him feel loved, like he had something waiting for him.

Steve let out a long breath, nodding. Bucky was right. Back in the forties, he’d been the level-headed voice of reason, getting Steve out of the trouble his big mouth got him into. Even in the twenty-first century, he was still doing his damage control. In a way, he had missed it.

“Alright, now I know I missed some chapters.” Sam was on Steve’s other side, holding an ice cream sandwich, eyes wide. “When exactly were you going to tell me your soulmate is on the team?”

Steve chuckled. “Surprise?”

“Welcome to the inner circle, Sam. We’ve been waiting for you.” Natasha joked, wearing a grin.

“I mean, it explains a hell of a lot. Here I was thinking she was like…the grandkid of one of your old war buddies or something.”

“That’s what I thought!” Natasha agreed. She and Bucky finally filled Sam in on everything he’d missed over the past several months.

Steve’s eyes wandered back to that couple, dressed as him and you. They were holding hands, walking down the pathway, laughing, talking. They stopped for a selfie together in front of the Avengers Campus sign, which inevitably devolved into a kiss.

And in his head, he replaced them with him and you, carefree and in love in the happiest place on earth.

You’re On Your Own, Kid

Maybe, if you lied very still, you could convince the universe no time was passing at all. You were staring at the ceiling, flat on your back, the weight of the world resting flat against your entire body. No, against your soul, weighing you down.

Tomorrow was your birthday and you were not ready. Not in the slightest.

You let out a loud groan, forcing yourself to get up, to get dressed. You chucked your pajamas in your hamper, throwing on some joggers and a t-shirt, the old Star Wars tee you’d had since high school. It was a simple one, black with stars scattered across the fabric, the yellow logo emblazoned across the front.

There was a knock on your door.

“It’s open.” You called, not turning around to see who it was. You put on your star necklace, the one Steve had given you almost an entire year before. You tucked it under the fabric of the shirt.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?” Steve asked, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes searching.

“Not well.” You sighed, turning to look at him.

“I didn’t either when mine was coming. I swear I didn’t get any sleep for a week.” He said, eyes soft. “I, um, got breakfast. It’s in the kitchen. Those breakfast sandwiches you like.”

Your lips curled into a tired smile. “Thanks. That’s really sweet.”

“Of course. Whatever you want today, just say the word.”

You crossed the room, walking right up to him and straight into his arms. He held you to him, read resting against yours. For a moment, he questioned if it had already happened, if he’d gotten the days mixed up.

If you already knew.

“I just need you to hold me.” You whispered, holding in tears. You should have been excited. It should have felt like Christmas Eve. You should have been absolutely buzzing with excitement for the day to come.

But you weren’t ready to let him go, for everything about your relationship to change. You needed more time.

“I can do that.” He said softly, thumbs etching circles into your shoulders. “As long as you need me to. I’ve got you. Always.”

“Okay.” You whispered, voice breaking. The tears finally slipping down your cheeks. It was all you could say to keep yourself from saying ‘I love you.’

You ate breakfast with the others. Natasha could tell you had been crying, so after, she took you, Wanda, Kate, and Yelena out of the house. It was a welcome distraction. The mall was the perfect spot. It always was. 

“What about this one?” Wanda held another dress against you, imagining you in it for your birthday party the following night. Steve had taken it upon himself to be the entire planning committee, which was why he was back at the Compound with the boys, getting things in order. The only thing he wanted to have to worry about tomorrow was the party itself.

“Does it come in blue?” You asked, eyeing up the rack she’d pulled it off of.

“It does.” She smiled, putting the red one back in exchange for blue. It was sparkling, form-fitting, a little less formal than the one you’d worn to your Avengers induction, but it had the same vibe, just shorter and with a deeper neckline.

“Perfect.” You said, turning towards the dressing room. You handed Wanda your purse and slipped into it. It fit perfectly in all the right places. You did a little turn in the mirror, satisfied, and then walked out into the store again, where Natasha was nodding in approval.

“Alright, dress acquired, where to next?” Kate asked, checking the list she was keeping on her phone.

“I heard there is a Lego store here.” Yelena said absentmindedly, glancing out the door. “We should go.”

“Is that where you got Steve’s Millennium Falcon?” Natasha asked.

“Steve has a Millennium Falcon???” Yelena asked, eyes wide. “I want one.”

“I got it online. It was on sale.”

“I didn’t know Steve liked Star Wars.” Kate noted as you walked back into the dressing room to change back into your Star Wars shirt, ironically enough.

“Loves it. He’s a big nerd. Bucky, too. Buck’s more of a fantasy nerd, though. He’s super into Lord of the Rings.” You could hear the grin in Natasha’s voice when she said it.

“Steve said it was the first thing he watched out of the ice. Star Wars, that is. I don’t know if he’s seen Lord of the Rings yet.” You added. “And he’s talked about going to the Stark Expo back in the day. Vintage nerd.”

“Nice.”

Once you’d paid for the dress, you moved on to the Lego Store, where Yelena just about ran to the Millennium Falcon set to see it for herself.

“Lego typewriter.” Natasha noted, pointed at it. “Speaking of vintage nerd.”

“Oh I’m sure he’d get a kick out of that.” You laughed. Depending on how things settled after your soulmate bomb dropped, maybe you’d come back and get it for him. At the very least, you were pretty sure you’d still be friends after it all. And friends built Lego sets together.

“Hey, wait, there are Legos of us?” Kate asked, eyeing up the display where Steve had, you assumed, gotten your matching keychains. “This is news to me.”

“Let me see.” Yelena walked over and gasped, eyes falling on her Lego self.

Wanda smiled softly, head tilting as she looked at you. She rested her hand on your shoulder.

“It will be fine. To quote someone I care about very deeply: whoever they are, they are lucky to have you. Now, let’s forget about it for a bit.”

“Alright.” You agreed, letting her lead you over to the Build-a-Figure station, where you started mixing and matching the pieces. It was hard, but you let your worries melt away, at least for a little while.

***

Meanwhile, Steve was walking around the Compound with a clipboard, making sure everything was ready for the next day. Scott and the ants were helping put up the decorations. He’d sent Sam and Bucky to pick up the cake, and Tony had taken it upon himself to take care of the catering. A peace offering of sorts.

Steve was putting together the playlist for the party himself, hand-picking songs you liked, recommendations from Nat and Wanda, songs from Taylor Swift’s discography, and then, finally, a special song he’d been saving. 

Steve liked to listen to his records in the privacy of his room, away from the ears of members of the team who would tease him for it. They were forties jazz mostly, made the place feel a little more like home, especially when you weren’t around. But there was a song that he would soon share with you, as soon as tomorrow came. He hesitated to add it, but eventually, he pressed his thumb to the song, adding it to the playlist.

He closed his eyes, remembering that moment. The last song of the night before Val’s closed. It was one of the last times he had gone there.

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when…” The singer’s voice had floated across the room, words striking him to his core. He got chills, opening his eyes again. God, he couldn’t wait for you to know. Sure, he was a supersoldier, but he was pretty sure the weight of his secret was finally crushing him.

***

You retreated to your room when you and the girls got home. It was kind of late. You’d decided to catch a movie while you were out. You didn’t mind. You were beyond ready to go to sleep and just…get it over with.

Off with the Band-Aid.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Steve asked, finding Natasha and Kate in the dining room.

“She went to her room for the night.” Kate replied innocently.

“Alright.” He nodded. “How was she doing?”

“Not great.” Yelena said, already into the box of the Lego set she’d settled on. “I mean, she’s like fine. Just…kinda sad.”

“Quiet.” Wanda agreed. Vision had his arm around her.

“Okay, well…” Steve put his hands on his hips, thinking. What was the harm in telling them now? Warning the rest of them what they’d be waking up to tomorrow. “Vision, can you round up the others?”

“Of course.” Vision nodded. “To be clear, I am to leave out (Y/N)?”

“Yeah. Yeah, everyone but (Y/N).” Steve confirmed, leading the others upstairs to one of the lounges. He sat on the couch, mouth resting against his hands, elbows on his knees. Tony sauntered in, followed by Bruce. The rest of the team filed in one by one, finding seats, staring at Steve, waiting for answers.

“So, um, thanks for coming everyone.” Steve said, meeting their eyes.

“Uh, Cap, we’re missing (Y/N).” Clint said, looking around.

“That’s the idea.” Natasha replied.

“Is this a party planning meeting? Do the decorations look okay? I really thought the ants did a good job.” Scott said.

“They did a great job.” Steve reassured him, taking a moment to collect his words. “So, as you all know, tomorrow is (Y/N)’s twenty-fifth birthday. And…I need to finally come clean. I’m her soulmate.”

“Okay, now that I did not know.” Tony said, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Your long lost love is one of our housemates?”

“Tony.” Nat shot him a look.

“No, I’m serious. I’m just…I’m relieved is all.” Tony admitted with a sigh. “I…the reason I didn’t tell her is because I didn’t know if Illustrians…I didn’t know if she’d have one. I figured…” He shook his head, staring at the floor. “I didn’t want to bring her down when it was so close.”

Steve took off the cuff on his wrist, finally finally showing him the mark that had been there since his twenty-fifth birthday in 1943. Your name, written in your neat, careful handwriting, first, middle, and last.

“Why not tell her, then?” Kate asked. “Why haven’t you told her?”

“That’s a little more complicated.” Steve thought. “When I turned twenty-five…she was there. In a few hours, when she goes to sleep, she’s headed to the forties to see…well, me, before the serum. I don’t know how or why, but…when she got there, she didn’t know. I didn’t want to risk changing anything. Butterfly effect and all that.”

“Time travel?” Bruce asked, eyes bugging out of his head. “You are just casually telling us that time travel exists.”

“I guess so.”

“Woah. Bruce. We’ve got some tests to run.” Tony said.

“Oh I am already taking notes in my head.”

The meeting ended shortly after that. The rest of the team gave him supportive words and smiles, but Tony’s were the most poignant. 

“I don’t know what you’re still doing here, Rogers. Go see her off.”

“Right. Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good luck, Steve.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

***

You closed the door after Steve left, listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall, steady and even. You let another tear roll down your cheek. All of the crying was exhausting. You just wanted to be done with it.

You sat on the bed, taking off your bra and chucking it across the room, laying back to relax and, hopefully, get some sleep.

The exhaustion must have been helping, because as soon as you closed your eyes, you felt the drifting start. It was strong and immediate, pulling you down through the mattress. You felt like you were floating and falling at the same time, limbs tingling. Your eyes shot open when you realized what was happening, but it was already too late.

And then everything went white.

Right Where You Left Me

In 1943, you walked hand in hand with your soulmate down the sidewalk, through Steve’s favorite park. It happened to be a shortcut between his favorite diner and the local theater. He liked to sit there sometimes, sketch couples walking by. Never had he imagined he’d be one of the couples someday.

For the past week, he’d about worried himself sick. He’d barely slept, he’d had no appetite, he’d had the worst art block of his life. Every time he fell asleep, he had dreams of finding his soulmate, only for them to be some pretty but shallow girl who didn’t want anything to do with him. He had nightmares of a grayed out mark like Bucky’s, or worse, no mark at all. Which is why when he’d run out that morning to get the mail, he hadn’t even checked yet.

Part of him didn’t want to.

And then he’d found you out there, laying under the mailbox.

And now, he was holding your hand. 

You caught his eyes, grinning. He smiled back, heart racing. Gosh, maybe he needed to sit down.

“Hey, could we sit for a minute?” He asked, motioning to the bench beside the path and trying his best not to sound out of breath.

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed, following him and sitting down beside him, hand still clasped tight in yours. “Do you have an inhaler?”

“What’s an inhaler?”

“Shit, right, they probably haven’t been invented yet…” You murmured, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“You…know about the asthma.” He realized.

You nodded. “I know about all of it, Steve.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “And you’re still looking at me with those eyes?”

“What eyes?” You tilted your head, innocent. “There’s no one else I’d rather be looking at, Steve. Just you.”

“Okay, now I know you’re not real.”

“Am I gonna have to spend all day convincing you I am?”

“You just might.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a reddish mark there. “Oops. Sorry, let me—”

Steve grabbed your hand, stopping you from wiping it away. “Leave it. Bucky comes home covered in ‘em all the time. I’ve never gotten one before.”

“I am going to cover you in lipstick marks by the end of today.”

He grinned, finally standing up to keep moving. “Is that a promise?”

***

It was nearing the end of the night. Steve could feel his time with you was nearly spent. So he led you by the hand to the stairs at the back of the bar, the ones that led up to the roof. He’d found himself up there alone on quite a few nights, when the double dates Bucky set up inevitably crumbled.

It was a beautiful night, clear. The stars were out in force, dotting the sky in perfect constellations. In the distance, fireworks boomed. It was one thing he’d always loved about his birthday.

“Wow, this is great.” You murmured, looking out at the city. It was like you were living in a photograph, the old buildings looming in the skyline, vintage cars driving down the street.

“My favorite spot.” He explained, walking over to the railing.

“I can see why.” You let out a sigh, gripping his hand tighter, fingers laced with his. You turned towards him, looking at the smattering of kiss marks on his cheeks. You’d kept true to your word.

Steve twirled you around, pulling you closer, a soft, romantic smile on his face. “God, you are so beautiful.”

“Let me show you something.” You told him, drawing his eyes to your hand where you made a tiny, gentle forcefield, its blue light shining across his features.

“What…is that?” He asked, staring at the orb. “Is that how you got here? Where were you keeping it?”

You curled your fingers, letting the bubble fizzle away. “It’s not a thing. It’s part of me. Something I’ve been able to do since college. There are a lot of people like me where I’m from, people with gifts. Steve…after I leave, your life is about to get a lot weirder than time travel and forcefields. I can’t tell you how or why, but…”

“I appreciate the heads-up.” He assured you, smiling. “And I love you, too. I didn’t say it down there, and I know I just met you this morning, but…I…I love you so much, doll. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

“You, Steve Rogers, are going to do amazing things.” You whispered, taking his hand again.

“Says the girl with superpowers.”

“I’m serious.” You told him. “I grew up hearing stories about you. I wanted to be just like you. Brave beyond words, fiercely loyal. I guess it only makes sense that we share a soul.”

Steve grabbed your face with both hands, kissing you deeply, lips dancing against your own, heart racing, knees wobbling like Jell-O. He rested his nose against yours, breathing shallow.

“Careful, there. Don’t let me take your breath away.”

He shook his head, kissing you one last time before murmuring, “Oh doll, I could do this all day.” He glanced back towards the door, music from downstairs faint. He took your hand. “Let’s go back downstairs. I think they’re playing the last song.”

You smirked, following him. “I thought you had two left feet.”

He shrugged. “I’m a quick learner.”

***

After you’d disappeared, Steve felt hollow, walking slowly back into the house. Bucky was sitting at the kitchen table, absently reading the paper. He met Steve’s eyes when he heard his trudging footsteps.

“She left you something.” Bucky chucked the bundle of fabric at him and Steve caught it, holding it out in front of him.

Your Star Wars shirt. Shit. He hoped you didn’t need it for anything. “Uh oh.”

“Might fit you.” Bucky chuckled. “Obviously you can’t wear it out, but…”

“Yeah.” Steve agreed, eyes sparkling with tears. He held it to his face, inhaling the scent of your perfume like it was oxygen. “God, I miss her.”

“I know, pal. It’ll be alright. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it will be.” Bucky’s eyes fell to the grayed out mark on his own wrist, so faint it was barely legible. “You just gotta take it one day at the time.”

Don’t Know Where, Don’t Know When

Your veins were on fire. The blinding white shimmered, giving way to…your ceiling. You were laying on your bed again, sunlight streaming through the window.

You blinked a few times, feeling flowing back into your limbs slowly. Your heart raced. You sat up, staring at your hands. Soon enough, your eyes found your wrist. The letters were still there, spelling out the name of your soulmate.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“Oh my god.” You looked up and met your reflection’s eyes, your hair still set in elegant 40s waves. Your pajamas were gone, replaced with the blue dress. Your lips were a deep shade of red, the same shade you’d left all over Steve’s face last night. A different Steve in a different time.

You let out a breath, standing up and walking towards the door, your new-vintage forties heels clicking with every step. You marched straight out to the kitchen, where Steve was sitting at the table, fiddling with his cuff. He was sitting across the table from Bucky and Natasha, whose eyes tried to warn Steve that you were approaching behind him.

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Um, how’d you sleep?” He asked, eyes widening when he saw the way you were dressed. His first love, in the flesh, just the way he remembered her.

“I didn’t.” You replied, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the room, snatching up the folding footstool leaned on the end counter as you passed.

“Good luck, pal.” Bucky laughed.

You just about kicked open the door of the conference room, skirt swishing as you did. You closed the door behind you, locking it with a click.

“(Y/N), listen, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but—”

You unfolded the stool, getting up on top of it and pushing him against the wall. You crushed your lips against his, hands grasping the fabric of his shirt. He moaned into your mouth, frozen for a moment until the rest of him got the hint. His eyes fluttered shut, strong arms wrapped around your waist, head tilting as he deepened the kiss.

Your grip on his shirt weakened, arms looping behind his neck, holding him close as his lips left yours. He rested his forehead against yours, breaths ragged. He laughed, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to hide the tint of his cheeks.

“Not quite where I thought this conversation was gonna go.” He murmured against you, pressing kisses up your neck.

You reached for his left hand, fingers lingering against the strip of leather that was still hiding your name.

“You can take it off.” He told you, eyes sparkling. “It’s about time.”

Carefully, you undid the metal bit holding it in place and peeled it back, revealing your name etched there onto his skin, your handwriting unmistakable. You choked on a sob, tears slipping down your face.

“The whole time?” You asked, grabbing onto his hand with both of yours. “You knew the whole time?”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, eyes falling to the hand you were holding. “I…You didn’t know when I met you. I didn’t want to risk…changing anything.” I didn’t want to risk losing you.

“I can’t believe…Here I thought I was your rebound.” You laughed, sniffling through your tears of relief. “I thought you were falling in love with me and I would be the asshole for getting a soulmate and breaking your heart. And it was me the whole time.”

“That’s why you were worried we wouldn’t be friends?” He asked softly.

You nodded, more tears falling when you remembered the way you’d felt day before.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He shook his head, wiping your tears away. “Honestly…I’m really glad we got to be friends first. Most soulmates don’t get that. It made me appreciate every moment with you even more. It was weird and hard, but…loving you was easy. Always has been. It was not telling you that was crushing me.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner…” You said, shaking your head. “All of those little moments…the reading chair, the Hunger Games marathon, the cabin…” Your heart ached remembering the night in the cabin. 

You remembered him sleeping against the wall in the infirmary after you’d been knocked unconscious, unwilling and unable to leave you alone when you were hurt. You remembered the bewildered look in his eyes when he thought you were dressed up for a date instead of Wanda’s birthday outing. The argument about whether or not you should go on the Red Room mission, when he was more worried about your safety than anything else, broken over the idea of something happening to you when he wasn’t there to help. The Lego set you’d spent hours building together, his hands so careful, fingers brushing against yours every so often. The mission in the Amazon, when the only thing he could think about while pseudo-drunk was you.

It was always you. It had always been you. 

“Steve…”

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked quietly, watching you, searching your eyes for some flicker of disappointment. “It’s okay if you need time. I’d understand. It’s…well, it’s a lot to process.”

“I just…” You sighed, squeezing his hand. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Believe it.” He said. He raised your hand, pressing a long kiss to your soulmark. “I love you, (Y/N) (L/N). I always have.”

“I love you too.” You confessed, earning that handsome smile he was so famous for. You couldn’t help but admire him, your supersoldier, the man that time had saved specifically for you. “I don’t need time. I just need you.”

You looked down at your new dress, realizing for the first time what it meant that you were still wearing it. You’d left your other clothes behind.

“Right. Before I forget.” Steve said, presenting a tattered, faded wad of fabric that had once been a shirt. “You left this at my place.”

You unfurled the fabric to find your missing Star Wars shirt, or what was left of it. You stared at it, dumbfounded. “You’ve had this the whole time?!”

“Took it everywhere with me.” He admitted. “Storming Hydra bases in Europe, Battle of New York, Sokovia, everywhere. I used to wear it, back when I was…you know, but it didn’t fit after my growth spurt. Sorry I couldn’t get it to you in better shape.”

“This is why you like Star Wars.” You realized, staring at it and looking back up at him.

“Yes.”

“Oh my god.” You laughed, shaking your head. You handed it back to him. “I think you need this more than I do, Steve. You can hold onto it for me if you want.”

He smiled, eyes soft. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course. I know it’s safe in your hands.”

Your shirt wasn’t the only thing that was safe in his hands. You were pretty sure, finally, that your heart was, too.

You stepped down from your footstool. Steve watched with an amused smile, chuckling.

“We had less of a height difference last night.” You reminded him, folding up the stool.

“I remember.” He reached for your hand and you gave it to him. He brought it to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles with care. “God, I missed this. I missed you so much, doll. Which is silly because you’ve been here, but…”

“I get it.” You reassured him, dropping his hands and wrapping your arms around him instead. 

He hugged you to his chest, resting his head against yours and letting out a long breath. You could tell he’d been holding it in for a long, long time.

***

Before you changed out of your forties look, Wanda insisted on a little photoshoot, which you were grateful for. Looking back, it would be fun to have pictures, even just as more proof that it had actually happened. Steve obviously sat in on some of the photos.

You asked some questions, of course, such as “who all knew?” The answer was everyone, but not until the night before when he’d finally come clean to the team. Before that, it had just been Bucky and Nat, and more recently, Sam.

Wanda claimed she had felt something, but never pried. Anyone could see it, though. Anyone with eyeballs. The way he looked at you had always been with love.

You changed into your dress for the party, necklace on display between your collarbones. You touched up your makeup a little bit, but left it. Bucky’s vintage lady friend had done a good job.

Tony showed up about an hour before the party was supposed to start, instructing the caterers. He stopped in his tracks, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. “Rogers tell you my side of the story?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And I appreciate you looking out for me. Kind of. In your own way.”

“And I am sorry, for the record. Maybe there would have been a way to bring it up without…you know.” Tony shrugged. “Happy birthday, kid. I’m glad it all worked out for you and the old-timer.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Got in touch with your parents. You were right. They’re off-planet. But I have their contact info if you want to…”

“Yeah, I’d really like that. Thank you, Tony.”

“Of course. I’ll get that all squared away.”

Steve walked up to you as Tony walked away, eyes landing on the necklace there. You realized, as he stared at it, that you’d been wearing it the night before. You hadn’t taken it off before bed.

“Is that what you meant when you said you had help picking it out?” You realized, putting the pieces together. “I thought you meant Natasha or something.”

“No, I uh…” He grinned, nodding. “I got a good look at it that night. You never said who gave it to you, but I figured it may as well be me.”

Steve was wearing a blue button-up, his nice black slacks that did everything for his legs. He’d shaved, combed his hair all neat. His hand settled on the small of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You stood on your toes, hooking an arm around his neck and tugging him down for a kiss, lips melting against his. You felt his warm hand settle on your jaw, tilting your head just so. He smelled good, like his woodsy mahogany cologne. His breath was fresh, spearmint. And his lips were soft, confident but gentle.

His nose nuzzled yours, breath warm as it fanned across your cheeks. He met your eyes for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling you against him again. Now that he could touch you freely, he just couldn’t get enough.

“Bout time.” Bucky chuckled, walking into the room, Natasha’s hand in his. She looked great, wearing a nice red dress. “How are you two doing?”

“Great, Buck.” Steve replied, still not letting you go as he swayed. “I’m doin’ great. How are you, birthday girl?”

“It’s the best one I’ve had so far.” You said, echoing his words when you’d asked him the same question. You kissed him again, lips finding his easily.

He smiled, eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Same here.” You told him. “I’ve had a crush on you since middle school. Imagine how I feel.”

“Middle school???” He asked, laughing.

“Yeah, why do you think I was crying at Air and Space Museum?”

“I was still in the ice!”

“Middle school girl crushes know no bounds, Captain Rogers.” Kate said, her and Yelena walking into the room next, more or less matching in their black dresses and purple and red accents. “I had plenty of crushes on old dead guys when I was in middle school. No offense.”

He laughed. “None taken.”

The party guests arrived in waves. The remainder of the team came, along with the extended family: Maria Hill, Jane Foster and her intern Darcy. A handful of your college friends came, buzzing about the prospect of being at the Avengers Compound, as well as the fact that you were an Avenger now, since most of them hadn’t seen you since that change had occurred.

You greeted them all as they came in, smiling and laughing and joking around like you did during the good old days. You introduced them to your new friends, your team. The playlist Steve had agonized over set the perfect tone. Some songs were upbeat and danceable, some were chill and slow, giving the couples in the room the chance to pair off and dance together.

During one of such songs, Steve offered his hand.

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Like old times…” You murmured, hand sliding into his as he led you out onto the makeshift dancefloor.

Steve faced you, strong hand settling on your waist, the other still wrapped around yours. There was only one song it could be, of course. His favorite of the songs you had shown him thus far. He spun you around, face hovering just behind your ear, where he pressed a tender kiss before spinning you back around to face him.

“Even if we’d met on a crowded street in 1944, and you were headed off to fight in the war…”

“You still would have been mine, we would have been timeless…” You sang softly, meeting his eyes, the smile on your face matching his own. It was like Taylor had plucked the lyrics from your very heart.

“I think we kind of are.” He said, head nuzzled to yours, still swaying along to the song.

“Yeah, I think so too.” You replied.

When the song was over, Steve leaned in and asked, “Can I give you your presents now?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded.

He led you out of the room and down the hall to one of the conference rooms, where he’d stashed them earlier. There were four things waiting there. A medium box, a tiny box, and two easels covered with sheets.

He turned a chair around and motioned for you to sit, so you did. He handed you the bigger box first, and the infamous clinking sound gave it away before you could even get the wrapping paper off.

“Oh I think I know what this is.”

“I thought you might say that.” He chuckled. “I didn’t know if you had this one or not. I kept the receipt just in case…”

You tore the paper off to reveal a Lego set. It was Van Gogh’s Starry Night. “I don’t have this one yet. And I cannot wait to build it with you.”

“That makes two of us, doll.” He kissed your cheek, handing you the next present, the smaller one.

You tore the paper off to reveal a small velvet box. You gently lifted the lid and inside, there was a set of star earrings and a simple silver band. An eternity band, if you weren’t mistaken. Not an engagement ring, but it was a common gift for soulmates to give once they found each other, especially after they’d spent some time together.

“Oh, Steve…” You murmured, tears in your eyes. “They’re beautiful.”

“Can I?” He asked, kneeling down beside you and reaching for the ring.

“Yeah, of course.” You held out your hand and let him slide the band onto your finger. How he’d gotten your size, you didn’t know, but it fit perfectly.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this since 1943.” He confessed, hands lingering around your own.

“It’s still so crazy to me.” You sighed, shaking your head. You met his eyes. “You were in love with me before I even existed, before my parents were even born.”

“I know.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek, another to the corner of your lips. “When I woke up after the ice, I…I was lonely for a while. I spent a lot of days alone, learning, trying to figure out the new world I’d found myself in. I was kind of bitter. I didn’t know why it had happened to me…until I found you in the mall that day. And then I knew it wasn’t some accident. What happened to me was fate. You’re my destiny. Everything that happened led me straight to you and it was all worth it.”

“You can’t keep doing this to me.” You sighed, fingers intertwining with his.

“Doing what?”

You leaned your forehead against his, whispering, “Making me fall more in love with you.”

“No promises.” He laughed, kissing your lips and pulling you to your feet. “On my twenty-fifth, you said you didn’t know I was an artist and I promised I’d show you sometime.”

He pulled the sheet off of the first painting. It was you, glowing a brilliant blue, streaks of energy emanating from you like you were a star. Your eyes glowed, hair blew in the breeze. Behind you was a bright waypoint and zipping through the air was his shield, all of it captured in breathtaking oil painting. You wondered how long it had taken.

“This is so beautiful, Steve.” You rested your head against him, arm wrapped around his waist. “You made me look like a freaking goddess.”

“Well now you know how I see you.” He reached for the sheet covering the second painting, a little more careful with this one due to the age of it alone. “You might recognize this one.”

It was the painting from the antique shop, the soulmates dancing in Val’s. Now, with your new knowledge, you recognized them immediately. It was you and Steve. Always had been. Tears slipped down your cheeks and your hand covered your mouth, muffling your sobs. There was a time when you were afraid no one would ever love you as much as the blond-haired man loved the girl he was dancing with and it had been you all along.

But that little blond guy had painted it for you, not knowing whether or not you would ever get to see it.

You turned to Steve, standing on your toes to wrap your arms around his shoulders, head resting against his strong frame as you cried.

“I never stopped looking. Never.” Steve said, voice getting emotional. “Every base I went to, I met every nurse. At every coffee shop, I studied every college student in case you were there doing homework. Every time I went to the theater, I was scanning faces for yours. It became habit, looking for you. I…”

“You found me.” You said, pulling away to see his face. You brushed his tears away with a gentle thumb. “You found me, Steve.”

He surged forward, kissing you deeply, with a century of passion behind his lips. Your hand wandered into his soft blond hair, the other settling against his firm chest. His hands caressed your body, memorizing every curve and dip, lips chasing yours through every slight movement. And after, he pressed a dozen kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. You giggled, finally catching his lips again.

Your breaths were heavy when he finally pulled away; his, too. You straightened out the fabric of his dress shirt, pulling him back down for one last kiss. Then another. Then, really, one last one.

“I love you, Steve Rogers. Now, then, and always.”

“Now, then, and always.” He murmured, kissing you again.

The two of you cleaned yourselves up before returning to the rest of the party. You blew out your candles and made your wish, for an eternity side by side with him, that wherever life took the two of you, it took you there together.

You had a slice of cake and some ice cream, sitting on the couch next to Steve, legs draped over his. He used his thumb to dab a little frosting onto the tip of your nose. You smeared frosting across his cheek with yours, which made him laugh.

After, there was one last song before most of the guests would be headed home for the night. As soon as the instrumental kicked in, you got emotional. It had been your last song with Steve the night before, a song that had been written about those going off to war, their futures as uncertain as the stars were numerous.

For Steve, it held a different meaning. He’d known then that his time with you was running out. He had no idea when he’d see you again, just that it would be a long time and that the version of you he met wouldn’t even know him yet, that it might be years before he got to kiss you again.

And so, the two of you danced as you had the night before, on Steve’s twenty-fifth and on yours, your face tucked against his, his arms wrapped tight around you as you swayed gently to the music.

“We’ll meet again. Don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…”

Tags: @cap-lu20

[chaimilkshake]

Pink Carnations - Worst Logan x reader

summary - Logan still thinks about the you from his universe, so what happens when he meets the you from this universe?

word count - 1.7k

warnings - none!

song - we’re in love by boygenius

a/n - this is much more my writing style, but still trying to figure out tumblr’s formatting so forgive me

The smell of freshly bloomed flowers and spring air filled Logan’s nose.

There you were, knelt in the garden, like always. Tending to your favorite flowers. Those pretty, pink carnations that came about every May, without fail.

A soft breeze pushed your hair back from your shoulders, revealing your face to him, as pretty as ever. He couldn’t do anything but stand there and stare. You looked so beautiful.

You turned your head as you noticed him, that familiar smile dawning upon your face, joy spreading to your eyes. “Hi, honey.”

The sweet sound of your voice rang through his ears, bringing a warm feeling to his chest. He let out a breath, finding himself unable to respond.

You sat back on your haunches, patting the dirt off your gloves. “Do you wanna help me?” You asked, gazing up at him.

“Logan?”

He couldn’t do anything but stare. Stare at your beautiful face, feel the spring breeze, smell the fresh flowers, hear your sweet voice.

“Logan, help me.”

Your voice adopted a concerned tone, looking at him now with panic in your eyes.

“Logan, help me! Logan!”

“Logan! Rise and shine, peanut!”

Wade’s voice shook Logan from his dream, causing him to come back to reality. The man stood over the couch, looking down at him.

“Good morning, sleepy head! Sleep well? I know I did. You’d think sleeping with an old blind woman would be disturbing, but she’s quite the cuddler,” the man went on as he rounded the couch, lifting Logan’s legs to sit down, allowing them to rest across his lap.

Logan pulled his legs away, sitting up with a sigh. He ran a hand over his face, convincing his conscious to come back to reality. “Slept fine,” he grumbled eventually.

“Great!” Wade said, patting Logan’s leg. “Then you’ll be ecstatic to know, it’s a very special day, my friend. You know Vanessa.”

Logan couldn’t help scoffing lightly at that. “Yes, I know Vanessa.”

“Well. It’s our anniversary. And I’m nothing if not a romantic. So, I’ve got an errand for you!”

Logan groaned, head leaning back against the couch. “I’m not running all around the city for you, asshole. She’s your girlfriend, you can do the heavy lifting.”

“Oh I will be. While I’m out on the town with my lovely lady friend, you will be back here, setting up for the after party.” Wade delivers a perfectly timed wink that says more than words had to.

Logan contemplates for a moment before sitting his head back up. “Fine.”

Wade gasped excitedly at that, clapping. “I knew you had it in you, Wolvie! I’ve already written you this lovely list of preparations.”

The man handed him a slip of paper, messily scribbled on, including doodles. The list read:

• Those tiny candles for mood setting ;)

• Wham! Make It Big CD

• Rose petal trail

Logan read over the list, having to squint a little to see the words correctly. The items seemed easy enough, and it gave him something to do with his day. “When do you need these?” He asked, watching Wade get up from the couch.

“ASAP, babycakes! But preferably by 5 PM, sharp!” He explained as he sauntered back down the hallway to their bathroom for a shower.

Logan grumbled at that, tossing the list on the coffee table for the time being. He had some time to go back to sleep for a bit.

It was around three o’clock, and Logan was almost done with Wade’s stupid errands. He’d collected the candles and the CD (after checking three different music stores), and now all that was left was the rose petals.

He’d heard about this local florist just by the apartment that was cheaper than any grocery store, and had incredibly good quality flowers. So, on his way back, Logan stopped for the rose petals.

He stepped in, welcomed by a shop with white tile floors and light green walls. Plants stood in every corner of the place, and a pleasant aroma hung in the air. It wasn’t until he saw you that everything clicked in place.

“Hi, welcome in! How can I help you?”

The familiar sound of your voice stuck in his head, his feet glued in their spot. Of course there’d be another you. This was another universe, after all. And you worked at a flower shop. Every piece of the puzzle was snapping together.

“Do you think we’re together in every universe?” You asked, cuddled into his side one cold, winter night. The fireplace was warm, but he was warmer. He wrapped an arm around you as you tucked into him.

He chuckled at your words. “I think that’s an interesting idea.”

“Promise me that we are? That you’d find me, in the next and the next?”

“I promise, my love.”

He had been standing and staring for a good minute now, and you were clearly getting creeped out.

“Uh, sir? Is there something I can help you with?” You asked again, leaning against the front counter.

Logan cleared his throat, looking down to the counter to avoid your gaze. “Yes, sorry. Do you, uh, do you guys sell rose petals? Or just roses I can take the petals off of?”

You hummed at that, nodding and moving to your display of roses. “Of course. We have red, white, pink, yell-“

“Red is fine.”

You stopped abruptly when he interrupted you, watching him for a second before nodding. “Alright. I can take those petals off for you and package them up. Wouldn’t want you to end up with a thorn in your thumb,” you hum as you pick a couple roses up from the bin.

Logan watches as you pluck each petal off the flower carefully, creating a pile. You always worked with such precision. That much hasn’t changed.

He took the pack of rose petals, fishing out his wallet. “How much?”

“That’d be $7.” You say, plugging it into the computer.

“That’s it?” Logan says before he can stop himself, looking up at you. He shook his head, pulling out a 20 and handing it over. “Keep the change.”

You looked between the 20 and him, shaking your head. “No, sir, I couldn’t possibly-“

“Please,” he pleaded, letting out a defeated sigh. “Just take it.”

You hesitate another second before taking the 20 from him and making the change. “Thank you…”

He nods, quickly exiting the shop before you could say anything else. He trekked back to the apartment, bags gripped tightly in his hands.

When he got home, Al was in the middle of leaving.

“I may be blind, but ain’t deaf. I sure as hell won’t be sticking around there for when they come home,” she protested as she walked towards the elevator.

Logan watched her go, sighing as he let himself in. His interaction with you was still lingering in his mind. It had never really occurred to him that there would be another you here. He still wasn’t really sure what to do about it, if anything.

Once it turned 4:30, Logan set up everything. Trailing the rose petals into Wade’s room, setting and lighting the candles, and putting the CD into the player.

As soon as he was done, he also set out for the night. He had no idea where he was going to go, but he would figure it out.

He wandered for a while, past bars and restaurants and clubs. But none of them appealed to him. Being around a bunch of young people, desperate for some kind of escape from their everyday lives didn’t sound appealing to him.

Soon, he found a smaller bar restaurant with a much calmer atmosphere. As he walked in, he was able to seat himself at the bar, immediately ordering a drink.

You were out to drink with a couple friends you hadn’t seen in a while when you saw him. The man who gave you the $13 tip earlier. Of course, it wasn’t much, but as a tip? Probably the biggest one you’ve received.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to your friends, taking your glass and sliding into the seat next to the man. “Hey,” you say, smiling over at him.

The older man looked up, face going white as soon as he saw you, as if he’d seen a ghost.

“I just wanted to thank you for the tip. You’ve bought me…about two drinks,” you joke, raising your glass slightly. “That was very generous of you.”

The man cleared his throat, looking back down at his own drink and nodding. “Don’t mention it,” he grumbled.

You hesitated, but continued. “I haven’t been able to go out with friends for a while. Haven’t had the money. But here I am,” you explain. Something about the man drew you in. You weren’t sure what, but he was…comfortable.

The man hummed, downing the rest of his drink while you watched. “I never caught your name,” you say, not backing off, despite him being uninterested.

“Logan,” he let out, finally moving to face you now.

“Logan,” you repeated, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you.”

As the night progressed, the two of you talked and talked. After the last call, you decided the conversation couldn’t end. “Walk me home?” You ask, sliding your jacket over your outfit.

“Course,” Logan assured you, holding the door open as you left the bar.

“So. You’re a florist,” he says, sliding his hands in his pockets while you walk.

“How’d you know?” You tease, smiling up at him.

He chuckled, looking down at his feet. Likely the first time that night you’d seen him laugh. “Do you have a favorite flower?” He asks, and you can tell he held his breath while he waited for the answer.

“Probably pink carnations,” you reply easily.

Although, nothing about the way Logan received that information was easy. In his world, he had let you down. Betrayed you to the highest degree. While the woman standing beside him was you, it wasn’t you. He knew he could never save you, but this was his chance to keep his promise.

In every universe.

[sloanesallow]

twenty

Sebastian is forgetting something.... (I wrote this in one go, mostly because I forgot at the last moment that I head-canon Sebastian's birthday as being today (ish, it's now past midnight), November 8th. Yes, I made him a triple Scorpio. He's more fun that way.) Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Siobhan Sloane) Tags: Sappy. A crumb of sadness. >1k words [Ao3] | [Wattpad] | [Tumblr Masterlist]

Sebastian is still working at his makeshift desk on Level Two when the clock strikes midnight. He pays the chiming bells little attention, scribbling away with his quill to finish the stack of reports his goblin supervisors at Gringots want handed over in the morning. Not so long ago, he would scoff at the suggestion of having a goblin as a boss, but Sebastian has come a long way since fifth year and knows how privileged he is to have the position he does. There are still eight more long months left in his internship, but by next summer, he will be a fully-trained curse breaker, ready for a proper field assignment.

He's mid quill-stroke when his ears prick up at the sound of shuffling in the nearby corridor. It's too late for it to be another Ministry employee, and Bigsby the elf has already made his cleaning rounds for the evening. Sebastian furrows his brows, listening as he hears the mystery person knock on the other doors in the hall. Too curious to ignore, he strides over to poke his head out, but when he opens the door he's surprised to see Sloane.

"Girlfriend?" he chirps in surprise, the first word that bounces through his brain and out his mouth.

Sloane suppresses a giggle, her lips curling up in a small smile as she nods. Sebastian steps aside, allowing her to enter the disorganized storage closet the Aurors have repurposed for him to use as an office. He stares at her, blinking several times in disbelief, wondering if he's slipped into some kind of sleep-deprived hallucination.

"What're you doing here?" he asks, grasping her hand and breathing a sigh of relief at the warmth he feels. "Why aren't you in Marseille?"

"Hello to you too, Sebastian," she quips, squeezing his hand as she laces their fingers. "I wanted to surprise you, but you weren't home. Ominis suggested you'd be here, says you're always here."

"Not always," he retorts, eyes still darting across her face and body to identify any subtle changes since he saw her last. It's been one month and thirteen days, and Sloane knows he's been counting. Her hair is a fraction longer, tied in a loose braid that he itches to undo with his fingers.

"It's midnight," she says back and he sheepishly grins. Sloane looks at him pointedly in the way that tells him there's something else, but his mind draws a blank.

"What?"

"Really?"

"Really...what?"

Sloane frowns and Sebastian feels his heart flutter with panic. Lack of sleep is all fun and games until it causes memory loss. He scratches the stubble on his jaw, struggling to recall if he's done anything foolish (more foolish than usual), or forgotten something important. Their anniversary isn't for another few months...unless he's slipped into an errant time experiment from Level Nine.

"Have you truly forgotten?" His girlfriend decides to put him out of his misery, replacing his hand with her own as she cups the side of his face, thumb sweeping across his cheek. "Sebastian, it's your birthday."

He straightens in alarm, eyes wide in realization. Midnight. Wednesday, the eighth of November. His birthday. More significantly, his twentieth birthday. A nice, round number—the true start of adulthood. Sebastian gulps, and wonders if the knot in his stomach is existential dread.

His thoughts drift, and he can't help but feel guilty for not remembering—it isn't just his birthday. Perhaps that's why it's slipped his mind; there's not much of a reason to celebrate getting older when he's still estranged from his twin. It's been years since he saw her last, and even longer since they welcomed a birthday together. The ache in his chest lingers, even as Sloane presses up on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I didn't want you to be alone, not today," she whispers, looping her arms around his shoulders when he moves to encircle her in a tight embrace. Sloane may be the only person, besides Ominis, who knows and understands the specific kind of pain this day might bring.

"I'm sorry," she adds and he quietly hushes her, stopping her apology short. It might've been nice to remain blissfully ignorant, but eventually, he'd remember and feel even worse about forgetting later on. For a long moment, he just holds her, thinking for what must be the millionth time about how damn lucky he is to have Sloane in his life, how wonderful it is to love and be loved in return.

"You're here," he breathes, kissing her temple, and then her forehead and nose before smiling against her lips. "I'm so happy you're here."

"Me too."

"For how long?" he murmurs between little kisses, savoring the sensation, knowing he'll miss it when she has to leave again. Stupid Marseille, he thinks, there are plants in England, too. "Do we have time to—"

Sebastian's stomach interrupts his suggestion with a loud gurgle that makes Sloane snicker, her nose crinkling in the way he adores. She playfully scolds him, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Uhh..." he shrugs and steals another peck. "Kisses will suffice."

"Sebastian!" she laughs, not bothering to squirm away. "You need to eat!"

"I agree!" he scoops her up, waggling his eyebrows before latching onto to patch of skin on her neck that makes her mewl. "I'll start with you."

[hearts4youz]

"Captains Daughter" ● Chapter One ●

A/N Heyy!! welcome to the first chapter of my first fic posted on Tumblr!!! I want to thank you in advance for reading my work, please provide criticism and feedback, I would greatly appreciate it :) I want to keep this authors note short so without further ado (ew) heres chapter one!

Word count 954

You strode into the mess hall like you've done many times before. Only this time, you worked here. When you were younger your father, Captain John Price, would bring you up to the base some days. You remembered ogling at the huge Humvee's and armored tanks in the garages, and the rooms full of state of the art weaponry you would see in the video games you had on the xbox your dad had bought you for Christmas one year. Smiling at the memory, you hopped in line to get a bite to eat before your meeting, which immediately followed the allotted time for breakfast.

Steak and eggs were being served today, based on the relatively low level of complaining from the people around you, you assumed it was one of the better meals served on base. As a kid, you never ate on base when your dad would bring you. When you were really young he would go out to McDonalds to get a happy meal for you. As you got older you packed your own lunch.

After you received your meal, you found an open spot at a half filled table. Nodding at those who were already seated there, you settled in at the other end of the table, savoring what would likely be your last bit of alone time for the rest of the day.

Your first day at a new base felt almost like your first day at a new school, you thought as you wandered the corridors trying to find the meeting room your father had told you to report to. You scanned the endless doorways, looking for one labelled "Meeting room 7." Cursing as you passed another one labeled storage, you thought you would be late. Turning another corner in this Labyrinth that was supposed to become your second home, you finally found it. You twisted the handle and stepped into a room with a long wooden table, a whiteboard streaked with poorly erased marker lines, and five men seated around the table.

You were greeted with a beaming smile from your father as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you.

"Gentlemen, this is my daughter Y/N, she has been recently assigned to our unit and will begin training with us and joining us for missions today," your father beamed, proud that the young woman he raised would be joining his team.

You offered a shy wave and a smile to the rest of the room, you studied each of them as they introduced themselves.

"I'm Sergeant Kyle Garrick, but you can call me Gaz, one sporting a ball cap with the British flag imprinted on the front said. he had a light stubble on his chin and above his lip.

"Everyone calls me soap 'round here," The guy with the mohawk grinned, he appeared to be the goofiest out of the group. Next to him was a tall man, face obscured by a skull mask. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Ghost, Lieutenant," His thick Manchester accent stated. The exposed portion of his face was unreadable as he looked at you.

"Alejandro Vargas, Colonel, Mexican Special Forces," The last one to introduce himself said with a smile.

"Well, I'm excited to start working alongside you all, and i'm looking forward to getting to know you all," you responded kindly, receiving nods and murmured agreements in return.

The one who called himself soap beckoned you over and patted the seat next to him as your father started yakking about the day's tasks. He grinned as you sat down next to him.

"Price says your a sergeant," he queried.

"I am, and you?" you responded.

"twins," he laughed.

While Price droned on, you and Soap chatted about anything and everything. You half listened to your dad, not wanting to miss important information and have a huge fuck up your first day on the job.

Eventually, Soap gave you the run down on each member of the unit. You learned that him and Gaz were good friends, Alejandro leads another group called Los Vaqueros, and the real name of the scary ghost guy was Simon Riley.

"He's a man of few words at first, well actually he's always a man of few words," Soap corrected himself. "but he's a good guy when you get to know him, he's an excellent soldier too," he continued.

"I don't think he's very fond of me joining," you said.

"Naw, he'll come around eventually, he's just trying to act all tough" Soap insisted.

you hummed, tuning back into the meeting. Towards the end of it, your father mentioned assigning a training partner for you. Task Force 141 was in much more violent territory, with tougher foes. You would need extra help to catch up to the skill level of the rest of the group

"I'd like Ghost to assist Y/N in training," Price finished.

You could see Ghost's brows furrowing from the eye holes in his mask, You could see Ghosts brows furrow from the eye holes in his mask, they were a shade of light blue, almost grey. Other than that, Ghost had no comment about the order. Price dismissed the meeting.

You waited for everyone to clear out before walking up to your dad, he kissed your forehead and smiled at you "Need something kiddo?" He asked.

"Well I can't find where my bunk is for starters," you said sheepishly.

This new base was huge, in your old one everyone slept in barracks. Here, everyone gets their own room.

"Of course kid," He chuckled as you made your way out of the meeting room.

Today, you would settle in. Tomorrow, the real work begins.

[climbthemountain2020]

time won't fly (it's like i'm paralyzed by it) - Chapter 7/Loop 33

I Know You, I Walked With You Once Upon A Dream

Summary: Every day, Rhysand wakes up next to Amarantha in her bed Under the Mountain. A prisoner, a weapon, a High Lord on a leash. He's been down there so long, it's starting to feel like time doesn't matter. 

Until one day, it doesn't. 

Feyre's death sends Rhysand back in time, waking up on the same day - over and over. Now, Rhysand must discover how to break the time loop, save his mate, and keep his sanity intact. 

A "round robin" style fanfiction with different authors. This work is meant to be read from beginning to end, but each chapter is written by a different author with their own spin on the time loop prompt. 

Warnings: mild canon-typical violence, NSFW, sexual content

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Word Count: 4k

Notes: Surprise! I am part of the hivemind! I am not subtle, lol.

I literally cannot tell you how much fun I have had with this wonderful group of people plotting and planning and cackling over all these chapters. @feysand-hivemind it’s been so fun to match your freak! I’ve had such a blast being a part of this.  <3 Thank you @popjunkie42 @tunaababee @witch-and-her-witcher and @rosanna-writer for the beta help! <3

Tumblr Masterlist | Read on Ao3 or under the cut.

Dead again.  

This time he hadn’t even known that something was wrong. He’d had a grand plan, a measured procedure for how things were going to go. Perhaps, he’d thought, if no one interfered at all, she would make it through the trials on her own and then the two of them might start with a cleaner slate. 

He should have known that she wouldn’t survive without any interventions at all. She was so lovely and beguiling, so smart and scrappy, so willful and stubborn, that it was so simple to forget she was also so tragically fragile and human. 

It had been two weeks since the last death, the reset having taken him by surprise, but he was biding his time now. Not intervening hadn’t worked, intervening too soon was equally disastrous. So instead, Rhys was performing his least favorite activity as he wiled his time away Under the Mountain: he was being patient. 

Blessedly, Amarantha had been sidetracked. Two uprisings in Day and Winter had kept her furious and occupied since he’d last awoken in her bed. The silence and privacy he’d been given in her distracted absence had left him time to think about what other approaches he might take to see this through to a different end. 

He sat on his bed in the darkness, the stress of the past two weeks compounding as he wondered where his little painter–where Feyre –might be now. He let his head sink into his hands, the pounding headache moving from his temples to the base of his skull. After fifty years, he thought he’d grow used to this living space, these bare, windowless walls, the stuffy and stagnant air. Normally, he could shove that claustrophobia, that need to breathe , somewhere deep down and far away. But today? Today Rhys had reached the end of his rope almost immediately upon waking, the walls closing in and sending his mind racing against the base need to feel open air on his skin. 

How many times was he going to live this torture?

He had wondered more than once about the potential merits of writing all the details down, even just to see them there on the paper. Would it make it more real? Would it make it more tolerable? At the end of the day, he’d decided over and over that it would be no use. He took nothing with him when the loops restarted–nothing but memories and the ever-growing desperation that this might be the punishment he’d earned for a lifetime of idiocy. 

And truly, he had earned this. He had done everything for the selfish benefit of keeping his home and his family safe. He would beg, barter, kill, and steal to keep them well and away from this, even knowing what torturous and questionable things he’d be required to do by Amarantha. He thought of his family as he so often did– Azriel’s brooding kindness, Cassian’s easy, teasing smile, Mor tossing her head back in laughter, and Amren’s harsh but loyal nature. He’d do it all again for them.

This time, though, the images didn’t end with them. They floated effortlessly into swirls of golden hair, freckles, and gray-blue eyes. They echoed with her taunting tone, her words–both sharp and curious–, her smile. Feyre was the key to this loop, somehow, and Rhys was going to figure it out even if it killed him. Again.  

Tonight had seen Rhys plagued again by nightmares. He had awoken in a cold sweat, the guilt and nausea eating at him as he’d shot awake in the dark room. Every night, he’d relive the light leaving her eyes as she died, that bright spirit guttering out as she searched for him across a sea of faces.

Feyre. Feyre. Feyre. 

He felt her name pulse through his mind like the beat of his heart. 

He was overcome by a need to see her, to assure himself that she was alright and unharmed in Spring. 

Without further time to hesitate, Rhys shot from the bed, tossing on clothes and sliding into the hallway. There were no sounds in the empty night, everyone having retired for the evening. The halls here were eerie even in the best of times, but Rhys hated the creeping feeling that was unique to this cursed place. He crept along the rock-hewn hallways, moving as silently as a specter and listening for even the smallest of sounds. There were no signs that Amarantha had returned, her quarters still quiet as the grave as he walked past. He sensed no thoughts from within, and hoped it meant that she was asleep or gone. 

He walked through the last of the halls to the tunnels, easily finding the door where he’d released the bogge. It had only been days ago, but lost in these loops it felt like it could have been years, lifetimes. As soon as he left the stifling swell of the wards, he was winnowing, taking the short bursts to Spring. The closer he got, the clearer the air smelled, that comforting and familiar tang of moss and honeysuckle and grass prickling at his senses. Long ago, he’d considered this place another home. 

He shook his head at the thought on his final winnow, arriving at the edge of the Spring woods, the magic of Tamlin’s wards shattering at a mere touch. 

Tamlin still couldn’t be bothered to fix his shitty border magic, despite the circumstances. No loops ever seemed to change that. Rhys could see the manor up ahead, a towering mass of marble and vines in the moonlight. The air around him was so warm it nearly felt like floating in a still sea as he moved closer and closer, following that lively trail of lilac and pear to the window he remembered as hers. 

That felt like years ago now, too, since he’d come here to find her and Tamlin embracing in their sleep. He shook his head again as if to dislodge the image as he materialized on the balcony’s edge. The security here would be laughable if it didn’t make him worried for Feyre’s safety. 

She slept with the balcony doors flung open, the gentle breezes of Spring dancing over her skin. This time, blessedly, Feyre was alone in the bed. She was faced away from him, curled on one side with her hands tucked beneath her chin. He could see the freckles across the bare expanse of her shoulders, and just like before, he ached to touch them. Rhys released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, the tension already allowing his shoulders to sink back down. Just the sight of her, her mere presence, worked like a balm on his soul. 

He looked over to the door, laughing at the haphazard trap she’d rigged up for anyone daring to enter. By his calculations, she hadn’t been in Spring for long. She and Tamlin were clearly not together yet. An emotion flashed in his chest at the huntress’ rope and curtain contraption at the door, an odd flare of something at her audacity, her will. It was becoming harder and harder to not feel things for this ferocious human girl, the ache within him calling to her even when it would all be so much easier if it didn’t. 

But there she was, sleeping peacefully and silently on the bed. She wasn’t dead, wasn’t broken. Her throat wasn’t ripped out, she was not being taken by wounds or choking to death, and Rhys could hear the steady thrumming of her heart from the open doors. It took every bit of his willpower to not slip inside the room, to inhale that sweet, light smell of her greedily like a man starved at his final supper. 

Rhys knew what the right move was. Feyre was safe and dreaming and that should be all he cared about, especially since she wasn’t with Tamlin. But…

But…

No. 

It was not Rhys’s place to be here. He had come to see that she was well, and she looked well. This Feyre didn’t know him, and even the Feyres that did know him wouldn’t have wanted him lurking in her bedroom while she slept. He had to admit he felt a little bad about skulking around Spring to watch her sleeping in the first place, and that creeping thought of truly being the creature of nightmares bit at him. But he’d needed to see her, assure himself that she was living and breathing and okay. Seeing her comfortable and at peace was enough for him. If all went well, he was sure he’d see her again soon enough. 

After giving her one more look, committing the soft sighs and smooth lines of her face to memory, Rhys turned to go. But as he turned to step back through the balcony doors and take off into the night, her sweet voice permeated the air. He whipped around faster than a flash of light, worried he’d been caught, but Feyre still slept, turned towards him now, her eyes shut tightly and a murmur on her lips. 

Rhys stood shell shocked, unable to draw his eyes away from her form, naked from the waist up. He couldn’t look away from her, even if he’d tried, his mouth suddenly dry and jaw slack. She moved again beneath the sheets, the seam of them dropping even lower down her waist against her writhing. 

The smell of her arousal hit him like a brick, and suddenly he was grasping the door frame, cracking it beneath his hands in his grip before his mind could catch up. It was like getting hit with a tidal wave–a heavily perfumed, absolutely delicious tidal wave. Rhys wasn’t one to fall to his baser needs, but the scent was the most overwhelming thing he’d ever experienced. His grip on the doors tightened and the wood warped and cracked beneath his palms. He couldn’t inhale fast or wholly enough, filling his lungs greedily with the scent of her. 

His Feyre.

He needed to leave right this second. He needed to get out of there before he did something he would regret.

Touch, claim, mine.

Turning from the room was the most difficult thing that Rhys had ever done in five centuries of living. Moving away from the delicious smell of her nearly broke him, but he needed to go before it was too late. As he turned to jump and winnow, her voice rang out quietly into the silence, so soft that he nearly questioned if he’d heard it at all. 

“Who are you?” His eyes shot to hers, but he found them still closed, eyelashes settled on her freckled cheek. She moved her hand over her face, rubbing the heel of her palm into her eye as she sank down further in the plush down of the pillows. “Come back.”

Now that she’d beckoned him, called out as though just for him, he knew he couldn’t leave her, even if he should. He could deny his painter nothing. 

She rustled beneath the sheets again, murmuring and moaning softly, and Rhys slipped quietly and gently into her mind, just for a moment, he swore to himself. 

Rhys was immediately struck by the smell of her, somehow even more potent than before. In her dream, she was on the same bed, the soft light of the moon filtering in through the windows. She was no longer sleeping beneath the covers, but kneeling, her legs spread wide and naked save for a pair of lacy, navy underclothes.

There on the bed, there was a figure curled lovingly behind her, his hand over hers as it moved methodically within her underwear. The figure was blurred, features not clear in the dreamlike state they were in. It looked nearly like a watercolor, the purples and blacks and blues all running together and unfocused. Rhys walked around the bed, keeping his eyes on Feyre’s writhing frame. The realization struck him as solidly as her scent had, the equivalent of running straight into a marble wall. It was him who cradled Feyre in his arms, the raven black hair and violet eyes beholding himself like a mirror as the hazy image came into focus.

He hadn’t projected that–hadn’t gone into her head to touch her. Had she been dreaming of him as he'd dreamed of her? His little painter…had some memory stuck, or was she dreaming of him in all the loops before they'd met? Had it been him the same way that he'd seen her in his?

He wove those tendrils of power out into the fabric of her dreams, caressing the fragments of sparkling night over the mirror image of him that had hands on her. With a flick of his wrist, dream Rhys was gone, the open air suddenly cold behind Feyre causing her eyes to fly open and land directly on him. 

Rhys stuttered a step, ceasing his motions. She shouldn't be able to see him here, not unless he'd willed it. But she was staring right at him all the same, a blush rising on her cheeks. 

Rhys was entranced by her, his eyes darting across her freckles, her smile, her hooded eyes, too much and not enough of every little bit of her, as though he couldn't pick just one thing to behold. 

Despite dream-Rhys’s removal, Feyre had not removed her own hand, keeping it pressed motionless to herself.

“Hello.” Her voice was thick and smooth as honey, and just as sweet, the sound coiling around Rhys’s ears and going straight to the base of his spine. Feyre looked at him from beneath lowered lashes, and his body itched to step closer. “You came back.” Rhys nodded, the action entirely out of his hands, still completely unsure of how she could see him in this dream without him willing it. 

She stayed as still as a statue, eyes firmly planted on Rhys. “Will you tell me your name this time?”

“Rhysand,” he answered without thinking, without planning, cursing himself inwardly as the word left his mouth. But Feyre just smiled demurely at him, the motion lighting up her entire face. 

“Hello, Rhysand. I'm Feyre.” 

“Hello, Feyre darling.” The greeting purred out of him as naturally as anything, and he could see her breath catch. She sat back on her haunches, that beautiful blush creeping to her neck and decolletage, but still, her hand remained where it was.

“I've dreamed of you before. But you never interact with me. It’s always just flashes, but you're here now.” Her voice had dropped, the husky tone of it driving home that force of arousal building within him. She was so beautiful, so lovely. And in this loop, even if it was just a dream, she wanted him. “This is another dream, right?”

He shouldn't. This was wrong . 

She thought it was just a dream, that there was nothing to it. But the way she was looking at him, the way she smelled. He inhaled again, even halfway into her mind the scent was overwhelming. The loveliest thing he'd ever had the pleasure of scenting. 

“This can be whatever you want it to be, darling.” He saw her breathe in deep, nostrils flaring as her wide eyes fixed on him.

“Would you, I mean, if you–” Her words failed her, but the intent was clear as she began to move those fingers that had been stilled the whole time. 

It was an invitation. She wanted him, her open blue eyes begging for contact. 

Fuck it. 

“Would you like a hand, love?” He could see the hitch in her throat as she inhaled, her eyes sparkling at the timbre of his voice. She was so responsive, her nipples tightening against the thin lace of her top and leaving nothing to the imagination, and he took a single unbidden step towards her. 

She nodded eagerly. “Please.” He felt delirious with want.

Rhys bit back a groan. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it in all these loops, what her skin would feel like against his, her soft warmth against the hard planes of his body. He circled the bed and watched as she took another deep breath, letting her eyes slip closed. He magicked his boots and tunic away, leaving him behind her in nothing but pants as he crawled into the bed. 

It isn't a good idea, his thoughts whispered, but as he touched her shoulder and a crackle of something zapped through his veins, he knew he wasn't going to stop unless she asked him to. 

She sighed languidly as his fingers danced over her shoulders and played up and down the sides of her neck. He pressed the length of his exposed torso against her back, her skin scalding against his at the contact. He swallowed back a sigh that seemed to emerge from him unbidden, but Feyre simply laid her head back on his shoulder, wordlessly expressing the level of comfort she already felt at his presence in her dreams. 

Rhys ran his hands along Feyre's sides, watching as her flesh prickled in response. His fingers slowly crept higher and higher, the silky smooth texture of her skin driving him wild. 

“Touch me.” Her voice was a whisper of smoke in the wind, but nothing had ever sounded clearer to him. 

He didn't need to be told twice, his magic racing out to mist the thin layers of lace into oblivion. His deft fingers wasted no time in cupping her breasts, feeling the heavy weight of them in his large hands and tugging gently on her nipples as she let out the most delicious sound he thought he might have ever heard. Her soft sighs and gentle moans were like music to his ears, her whimpers a song that he’d been waiting for his entire life. He touched her chest, gently and playfully touching and circling them until Feyre was gasping and wiggling in front of him, her body rubbing against his like a cat in heat. He was painfully hard by the time she was begging and pleading for his hands to move lower, pulling them with her own until they reached her sex. 

Rhys hardly managed to bite back a groan of his own when he ran his fingers through her wet heat. She was soaked entirely through, her arousal running down her thighs as he spread her open with his fingers. 

“All for me, Feyre?”

“Gods, please .” 

He grinned as he pressed hot, open mouthed kisses to her neck and shoulders, dipping his fingers barely into her and circling them around her as she cried out. Nothing has ever felt as good as Feyre trembling against him, nothing had ever sounded as nice as his name on her lips. 

“Rhysand,” she gasped as he pressed a finger into her warmth. 

“Rhys. Just Rhys.” 

“Rhys,” she murmured, turning her face to his and capturing his lips with hers. When their mouths met, Rhys swore the world shifted on its axis, the arousal and emotion and feeling in his chest threatening to explode under the pressure. The light around them went soft and hazy as they moved together, the glow blurring around them like the dream was ebbing in and out with their shared breaths.

He added another finger as she undulated against him, each and every point of contact shooting sparks into his bloodstream as he gasped aloud. She responded by doubling down, reaching behind her to toy with the waistband of his pants. 

He felt nearly embarrassed, reduced back to a youngling as he bucked forward into her touch, his rhythm momentarily stuttering. 

He tried to pull back, resuming his own ministrations, but she wrapped her fingers into his waistband and pulled him back to her.  

“I want to touch you.” He couldn't argue with that. 

Rhys shoved his pants down, his erection jutting against her back. Feyre wasted no time in grabbing it with enthusiasm, Rhys's mind reeling with the pleasure of it as she began stroking up and down the length of him. The movements were somewhat jerking with the angle, and Rhys still thought as he brushed against the cheeks of her ass, that it might be the most magnificent thing he’d ever felt. Despite the angle, the rush of it all overtook them quickly, the natural back and forth of it seeming as easy as breathing. Before long, they were both a breathy mess, her head resting back against his shoulder and his forehead against her neck while they moved together. 

“You're exquisite,” he whispered into her hair, the smell of her so potent and overwhelmingly lovely at this proximity. 

He could feel her fluttering around his fingers, feel the echoes of her impending orgasm grasping at him desperately while she moved her hand faster around him. Rhys was glad she was close because he was losing control, the feelings thundering through his chest and threatening to burn him alive wrapping down around the base of his spine. 

He pressed the heel of his hand into her as he pistoned his fingers in and out, the movements becoming more intense as she responded in turn, their touch reaching a crescendo. 

“Come for me, Feyre.” 

She clenched around him. “Only if you come with me,” she responded huskily, even as she herself tipped over the edge. Rhys followed immediately, his vision nearly blacking out for a moment as he did. 

He wasn't sure when he'd eased them to the bed, their breathing evening out between their twisted limbs, sticky with sweat and cooling in the Spring night air. Rhys felt weightless, the dream or the satisfaction allowing the pull of the world to work differently around them. He brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear and tugging her back to his chest tightly. 

“That was incredible,” she whispered, and Rhys fought the urge to preen. 

“It was. You are.” 

She laughed softly, turning her head to look at him. Her eyes looked like the sky after a storm, the heavy clouds that used to roll in over the snowy peaks of Illyria. Home. 

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and Rhys wondered if he'd ever felt so sated in his life. His time here was limited, but he was going to enjoy every single second he had allowed himself.

She had dreamed of him, recognized him. She had wanted him here. 

“Will I see you again?” she murmured quietly as he brushed his fingers up and down over her thighs and hips. Her eyes were already beginning to flutter shut. 

“I would be willing to put money on it.” His voice was tinged with relief, with laughter, with joy he had not felt in ages.  

“Do you have to go?”

“I’m sorry, Feyre. I do.” 

She was mostly asleep by now, sighing lightly as her eyelids finally shut and stayed closed. “I’ll see you soon, Rhys.” He smiled despite himself, brushing his fingers lightly across her forehead then placing a kiss there as her breathing evened out. 

He carefully eased himself out of her mind. Outside of her dream, he was still leaning against the door to the balcony, the distance between them feeling near-painful now, a throbbing ache in his chest that demanded he step closer. Rhys resisted this time, knowing that the dawn would be coming soon and turning from the room with one final look at his painter. 

As he winnowed back to the grounds, walking around the property to the woodline under the cover of remaining night, his thoughts were lighter than they’d been since all this loop nonsense had begun. She’d dreamed of him, his face, his voice, his touch. If she could seek him out in her dreams this way, think of him as a soothing presence instead of something evil, how might that change the future of the loop? 

Next time, it could be familiarity and not fear or mistrust that guided their interactions. 

Why hadn’t he considered this before? It changed everything . 

Rhys rounded the final corner of the manor that bordered the woods, light on his feet and his spirit buoyed with this newfound, unfamiliar, but welcome hope. 

The last thing he saw was the form of a sentry, the sword already flying through the air and aimed directly at his neck.  

Well, fuck.

[bingeeaterblog]

// small warning big re touken hate it's a post on why I hate it and how I think it could've been done better BUT I encourage you to keep reading if you do like them and to give me your thoughts whether to tell me why you like them or why you think im wrong in some regards i love a good debate its why i joined Tumblr

I'm gonna start this off by talking about why I loved the original mangas touken.

They start off as strangers, them only having a REAL meeting when she saves his ass from nishio. Initially she was cold and rude, for every reason he was very disrespectful(also for good reason he was scared and all he knew about ghouls is that they are monsters who hurt people, one literally just had him in a choke hold) but I digress. Kaneki starts working at anteiku and he's shadowing touka much to her dismay she feels he can't do anything right and is just a know it all human.

Right off the bat they have a very interesting dynamic, touka learning to care for kaneki him starting to see her(and ghouls as a whole) as a person and not something he should be afraid of.

As time goes on, touka falls for him, it's what makes everything so hard when he abandons her. She feels betrayed he left just like ayato and her dad did no one ever stays for her? How could they? She makes herself so hard to love shutting everyone out. She blames herself partly, not being able to protect him from whatever happened at the aoigiri base.

When she does see him again she's angry! How dare he come back after all this! Why can't he just make up his mind! So she lashes out, she misses him so dearly but she can't tell him that? Let him know she cares? She hits him and tells him to never come back to anteiku (to her).

You can see why it's so appealing!! The angst!! The drama!!! They have it all! Toukas longing and kanekis isolation are what makes them so GOOD.

To explain why I don't like re touken we have to talk about why I don't like re touka.

Touka before was a very well rounded character, she was brash and a little impulsive, she loves the people around her even if its hard for her to show it in a healthy way. She'll do whatever it takes even if it means risking her own life.

Re touka, doesn't really have that. She's very... Water downed. I like to call it house house wife-ification. She's lost any semblance of her old personality. While I do like the idea of touka calming down and becoming more docile it's not done right, we meet her again and she's just... Like that? There's no character development of her changing it just happens! She's shaved down so she can be the perfect love interest for kaneki, it's even shown in her design! Her eyes are softer and she doesn't hold any of the same energy as old touka(this happens with a lot of female characters ishida just ended up giving them all the same face besides eto).

Kaneki is? Fine? I loved haise as a character and him and touka were sorta cute if u kinda ignore that fact touka isn't touka. Kaneki was fine and re and that's it, he's just okay. His Savior complex is removed and it's just "I wanna save people!!" The whole reason his savior complex is important is BECAUSE it ends up hurting more people he should've been developed to learn how to manage that and be the hero he could be.

Now for their actual relationship.

It's very.... Rushed? There's no tension no build up just "are you a virgin?" Which in my opinion is something touka would never say she'd stumble around it. they made her bold at the wrong times she's an awkward lil freak. And then boom! Sex yeah! And it's? Okay? It's not my favorite I felt like a sex scene between them should've been more desperate!! That's when the marriage bite should've happened! It should've bites and messy kisses and promises to never leave again! There was no passion! There was the "why are you crying" but that didn't really do anything for me!!

I do like the end scene where she was petting his hair that was very soft which is what he needs.

Then toukas pregnant!(Which is something I'll get into good another time) And it kinda feels like they only rush into the marriage because she is... Like I feel like they should've atleast had a dating stage y'know!! Everything just felt so fast with them and nothing like the original:(

The end credits scene feels nothing like touka, she looks dead that's not the character I used to know :( kaneki too only the scene with hide felt real

And yeah! I like ichika! But how cool would it have been if touka got pregnant AFTER re and in the end credit thing she was revealed! Another natural born one eyed ghoul!! Idk...

This is very messy sorry I had to get this out. if you like them? That's fine!! That's super duper cool its just not my favorite. Tell me why you think I'm wrong! Id love to hear your opinions

[bluravenite]

Pov I decided to redesign the cast of hazbin hotel for fun! (pt.1)

*disclaimer: this redesign was done for fun as a way for me to explore character design, it is not meant to critique official art or designs, all design elements were chosen with respect and according to research done about the show, characters, and facts given by the creator. Do not critique my designs, I will not care.

Tip jar // commissions (open!)

More about the design choices under read more:

Alastor: I wanted to lean into the 1930's radio host aesthetic, and emphasize his deer motifs, stylized the two toned red/black hair into a more 1930s look, as well as the suit, made his microphone more classic, though I wish I had kept the eye 👁️ (we can pretend it is there, just closed)

Charlie: wanted to emphasize the goat motif in her face, and also make her suit look more "princess-y" so I opted for an outfit that is more rounded in design, she also looks a bit like a puppet, since based on show assets, and background information we know Charlie tends to copy or follow in her parent's shoes, or their trust in Alastor's case.

Vaggie: let's be real, Adam created his angels after his favorite things, he would've made vaggie hot as fuck... So I wanted to give vaggie a still badass outfit to show that she's comfortable in her body despite it being made for Adam's gaze, with a garter to hold weapons since she's not afraid to fight, she also died in 2017 which is why the outfit is a lil Tumblr core, also have her similar shoes to carmilla, to signify her respect for carmilla. She also has moth antennas bc she's technically a moth... Yeah

Angeldust: 1940s mafia spider, I'll walk you through, striped pink vest as an homage to oh striped suit, but more in the 1940's style, escorts would often cover up with big furr coats when wearing skimpy outfits, so i alluded to the showbiz glam by adding a fur scarf. Also, viv had mentioned that Angel hated his feet, so I gave him uglier (spider-like) feet, he will usually be wearing heels. I also just curled his hair more like the 1940s fashion.

This was my thought process so far, though it was very much done entirely for fun.

[darkbluekies]

i wanna start writing so bad but idk where to start do u have any tips??

Okay, so this is more of a general in depth guide for a little of everything, if you don't find anything useful in this please let me know and I will try again <3 This is more for lenghty novels (which are my main writing thing) than tumblr posts, but i think that some things here could be used for tumblr too so i'm just spewing every kind of advice i have

Before writing

If you don't have an existing idea, watching movies, series and even music videos can help bring out ideas. Watch some that you like and maybe write down some moments you liked. You can always take inspiration from existing things as long as you make it your own and not copy them.

Everyone says "read more" to develop your vocabulary and I didn't really believe it, but i notice how I feel more confident in my writing after reading someone elses work. It helps you with seeing scenes from other perspective thanks to how someone else would describe a scene. I also created a document where i write down phrases and words that I'd like to remember and use for myself when I can't come up with my own words. It can look like this!

I have always had an easy time for creating stories with a red thread,. But if you need a little help planning out your story, where things should go and when to add what, models like 'Save the cat' could be beneficial. My advice, though, is to not follow it blindly because it can result in a mass procuced feeling since it can become predictable! But I feel that it can be good to have the story somewhat planned out from the start. You don't need to know everything, but just having an overlook where you want to take it is a good thing.

When it comes to characters, try to make them have different characteristics and don't be afriad to give them traits that makes them bad. There are multiple things I don't agree with when it comes to my characters views, actions or reactions, but it makes them human and that's the best thing you can do for your characters, to make them human, real, believable.

Pinterest boards are fun and easy to keep track of the vibe of your story. It helps you save pictures of characters, their clothes, their houses, everything. I have one for every of my books, here are some ideas!

Writing

My biggest advice (that i honestly should take too) is that your first version of something NEVER has to be good. Hell, you don't even have to like it, just get it done so that you have something to go off of when you remake it! You should have fun when you write. Sounds cheesy, but it's very true. If you feel that the story is draining you more than exciting you, leave it. You might come back to it in the future, but for now it's better to leave it and start over!

I have heard a tip that I haven't tried, but when I think about it, it makes sense. Someone suggested to take a book and copy it, word for word, into a document for yourself. That way, you learn to write sentences and build a story. Haven't tried it, but maybe worth giving it a shot? :)

Synonyms are your best friend!! Don't repeat yourself too much. And, instead of saying for example "she walks very slowly, not wanting to reach the meeting" you could say "she forced her legs to move despite the heavy feeling in her chest", because it makes the reader's brain puzzle together what the character is thinking!

I'll round it off before I start to spiral lol. I hope that this was somewhat helpful. I'm rarely asked about these kinds of things so when I am it all flows out without structure! :,)<3

[upthebracket]

i have to say as a former "gay transmasc" all these "forcedmasc" posts starting to go round tumblr and pinterest are so revealing of the mindset of many with that identity, because they capture its driving anxiety in such a blatant, unvarnished way: the view of the female body as innately inferior, disgusting or even monstrous, and the male body as the perfect eroticised ideal. many of the posts state outright that the female body is just a pale imitation of the male body, and because it's physically weaker, it's lesser and the girl has to destroy it in order to become powerful, in control and free (things that only a man can be). for example:

it's very similar to what i understand thinspo posting to be, both in terms of the actual visual content – images of the ideal masculine figure paired with encouragement towards that goal – and the underlying message. this would make sense because they're both partially responses to misogynistic shaming – a girl who has been shamed for not living up to the feminine ideal will either try her hardest to do so (i.e. through an eating disorder) or decide that it's impossible for her, so she's going to be defiant and do the opposite (i.e. try to become a man).

i've also noticed that the language used is often very religious or spiritual – using biblical metaphors and talking about "becoming" or being "reborn" in the christian sense; the sinful, corrupt self being symbolically killed to make way for the heavenly self:

to a person with regular self-esteem this is clearly irrational, because they can acknowledge that no matter how they change their appearance they're still going to be the same person ("no matter where you go, there you are"). it reads like a mentally unstable person trying to cope with big existential dilemmas such as the fact of being judged by others, or the fact their body will change without their permission and eventually they'll die; and turning to a religious ideology to cope.

for decades writers and filmmakers have tried to impress upon people the danger of being your own god, of trying to reinvent yourself out of accordance with nature and acting as your own voyeur and critic. you see it in recent films like the substance and in classic novels such as the great gatsby and the picture of dorian gray (which transmascs tend to be quite tellingly obsessed with).

but i fear that as someone who's been there and done that, if i tried to put this to a forcedmasc-er i'd get the same response you'd get from an evangelical being told that their infallible god (the ideal male form) is in fact fallible, or perhaps even non-existent. i'd be dismissed at best and labelled a heretic and dogpiled at worst. and doctors and surgeons don't see any of this because they're not on tumblr or pinterest! all they see are clearly unhappy teens and young people walking through the doors saying they want to be the opposite sex.